


The Prettiest Things in Life

by PeppermintGlow



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: AU, Action, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Angst, Fluff, Jicheol, M/M, android jihoon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-23 00:57:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 33,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6099583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeppermintGlow/pseuds/PeppermintGlow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Novelist Seungcheol picks up a stray runaway boy called Jihoon on his way home from a bar. He has no idea that this small boy is going to change his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Snow is a Pretty Thing

Snow is falling. It’s white and cold, just like Father said. Father always said it was pretty. I don’t know what pretty is. I guess snow is pretty then. It numbs my fingertips as I stand under the street light. Snow is pretty. It makes me feel less. Maybe not feeling anything is a type of pretty, too.

I stand under the street light. It’s dark outside. There’s a train rumbling past overhead. It’s cold. The snow keeps falling.

I wonder how long I will stand here for.

 

 

* * *

 

“Seungcheol.”

“Yes?”

“I don’t like you being all alone in that apartment of yours.”

“It’s not that big of a deal. I can afford the rent.”

“Rent isn’t the point. You’re an award-winning novelist. You don’t take care of yourself. Now that your sister’s moved in with her new husband you need somebody there with you to remind you that the real world exists.”

Seungcheol sighed. Jeonghan was his editor and closest friend, but that didn’t make his know-it-all smart-ass attitude any easier to bear.

“I’ll find somebody. Maybe Vernon’s ready to get kicked out of our parents’ place.”

Jeonghan looked at him.

“I’ll find somebody,” he reassured his editor, getting up.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yeah.”

“Take care.”

Seungcheol slapped down some money on the bar. “You too, Jeonghan.” The bar the two frequented wasn’t too far from Seungcheol’s house – close enough to walk, in fact. It was out of the street, across the bridge, around the corner, walk for five minutes, under the railway, around the other corner, third apartment block.

It really was a cold night. Maybe Seungcheol could use that in one of his upcoming books. It had started to snow again – small drifts of the last snowfall were still heaped in corners here and there.

Just under the railway overpass stood a very small boy.

Seungcheol frowned as he closed in on him. The boy wore ill-fitting jeans, simple thin shoes and a large shirt, but nothing more – not nearly ample clothing to cover him with frosty winds biting at his face. He was very small, and had a wide-eyed, innocent-looking face. It was small and plump and pure. He didn’t look like he could be very old.

“Little boy,” Seungcheol called, stopping right in front of him. “Aren’t you cold?”

The boy turned to him. “Yes, I’m cold.”

“Where’s your coat?” Seungcheol blanched.

“I don’t have a coat.”

“Where are your parents?” This boy couldn’t have surpassed high school yet.

“…Father is at home.”

“Where’s home?”

“In the city.”

“You should go back there immediately. You’ll catch your death of cold.”

“I can’t go back,” the boy said, his voice holding a monotone sound.

It took Seungcheol a moment.

It wasn’t rare for kids to get kicked out by their parents nowadays. It was just strange that such a child had nowhere to stay.

“…do… do you need a place to stay tonight?” It took a moment of silence for the man to back himself up. “Uh, I’m not anybody creepy! You just look very cold.”

Silence.

“Did your father kick you out?”

“I ran away.”

Seungcheol took a deep breath, straightening out. “Well, that’s that then. You can come home with me. Uh, if you like. Or I can get you a cab somewhere. But you can’t stay out here in the snow like this.”

The boy looked up at the sky. “The snow is pretty,” he stated.

Seungcheol frowned a little, looking up, and then nodded. “I guess snow is pretty.”

“If I come with you, are you going to kill me?”

“…no?”

“Lying is bad,” the boy said.

Seungcheol laughed. “I swear I won’t kill you or hurt you. You can have a hot shower and some clothes and a warm futon for the night, at least.” The older man offered the palm of his gloved hand. “But you really can’t stay out here in the cold.”

Slowly, the boy reached out and mimicked the gesture.

Seungcheol took his hand. “Now then. Let’s get inside and warm up. What’s your name?”

“Jihoon,” the boy said. “My name is Jihoon.”


	2. Speech is Not a Primary Function

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seungcheol and Jihoon settle in for the night.

“Left tap is cold water, right tap is hot water,” Seungcheol instructed. “Here’s a towel. These clothes were mine when I was still in school. They might be a little big for you, but that can’t be helped for tonight: they’ll be comfortable at least. Okay? Soap is in the basket. Enjoy your shower.”

Seungcheol left, and it took a couple of minutes before he heard the water switch on: he stood in the kitchen of his very large condo, chopping up vegetables for the ramen bowl he was making. Just when it was ready to be eaten the small boy returned.

The jogging pants were actually a pretty good fit, even for his short little legs: sure, Seungcheol had worn them last when he was about twelve years old, but that was beside the point. The sweatshirt was far too big, enveloping the little boy, but it gave him a cute appeal somehow. He was holding his own snow-wet clothes.

“Oh you can dump those on the bathroom floor,” Seungcheol offered with a smile. “I’ll wash and dry them tonight.”

Jihoon turned and put his clothes on the bathroom floor before coming out again.

“I made ramen,” Seungcheol smiled cheerily, grabbing the pot with two cloths. “How does food sound?”

Jihoon followed him silently to the table.

“Sit down, sit down,” Seungcheol urged, collapsing on one side. “Let’s eat, okay? You must be freezing and starving. How long were you out there for?”

“Six hours and thirty-seven minutes,” Jihoon answered. It took him a moment before carefully sitting down across from Seungcheol.

Seungcheol stared. “That’s a long time,” he whispered. For such a young boy to stand out in the cold for that long… He reached over a bowl and some chopsticks. “Here, eat well.” Seungcheol dived his chopsticks into the pot, gripping a thick load of ramen before cutting the noodles and then gripping the ladle for broth.

Slowly – as if he were hesitating or waiting for something – Jihoon took his own noodles and a little broth with vegetables.

“So tell me Jihoon,” Seungcheol started conversationally. “How old are you?”

Jihoon chewed slowly and swallowed before answering. “I’m nineteen.”

Seungcheol gawked a little, wide-eyed. “Nineteen? You don’t look nineteen.”

“I’m small for my age.”

“…guess so.” Seungcheol blinked a bit. He wouldn’t have believed it but the boy’s voice was surprisingly deep and he spoke in what seemed to be a reasonably adult tone. “I’m twenty-four. Oh, I’m Seungcheol, by the way. Can’t believe I forgot to introduce myself.”

Jihoon just looked at him.

“Ah, I’ll tell you about myself. Okay? That way I won’t seem so creepy,” Seungcheol grinned. “Ah, like I said, I’m twenty-four. This is my apartment… it’s really a condo for two people, but I’m alone. I’m a novelist – ah, I’ve won a few awards and had some best-sellers, too.”

Jihoon kept staring silently.

“Uh… w-what about you? Are you in college?”

“No.”

“Work?”

Jihoon shook his head.

“Ah, I see.”

The two ate in an awkward silence: Seungcheol couldn’t really suss out the boy, but then he realized that wouldn’t be natural. The boy had just run away from home, and he was in a stranger’s house: he wasn’t about to spill his life story.

By the time the pot was entirely empty – the small boy could hold a surprising amount of food – 1AM had long passed, and he was shown to the guest bedroom.

“Uh, the quilts and pillows are in the corner. I cleaned them fresh two days ago so they should still be good. There’s a new toothbrush in the drawer with some toothpaste so you can go brush your teeth. Uh, let’s see… I guess you can sleep in those clothes, or not, whichever you prefer. Do you need to be up at any certain time?”

Jihoon shook his head.

“Then I’ll leave you to your own devices,” the novelist smiled cheerily. “I’ll go to bed in a bit, so if you need anything, don’t hesitate to come out and ask.”

Seungcheol put Jihoon’s own clothes into a cold wash and then the dryer: then he cleaned up the kitchen. He watched Jihoon travel to the bathroom with the toothbrush in his hand once, and then back: the little patter of the boy’s small feet made him smile. The kid was kind of cute.

He had to remind himself that the ‘kid’ was nineteen years old.

 

* * *

 

“Jihoon, I’m going to turn off the lights now. Is there anything you need before I go to bed?” Seungcheol knocked and then popped his head in.

Jihoon shook his head.

“Alright, sleep tight.”

Jihoon simply nodded, noting Seungcheol’s expression for future reference. Apparently nodding was not the right thing to do after somebody told you to sleep tight. He would have to process that later.

After a few hours had passed in the darkness Jihoon got up from his sitting position on the bed, ducking close to the wall. With a tiny hairpin he’d found in the drawer he slowly unscrewed the plastic case of the outlet from the wall, and fumbled with the wires for electricity before pulling off one of the socks Seungcheol had given him. With the outlet put back together he stuck his toe into the socket.

Electricity began to flow through the boy’s body.

 _My battery is re-charging,_ he thought, closing his eyes. _This is not an ideal setting, but it will have to do. Seungcheol’s outlet could never be as powerful as Father’s lithium batteries. Battery is at six percent, and charging. Once I reach 10 percent I will be able to access my primary functions that do not run on emergency function. Once I reach fifty, secondary functions will come online. I am charging. I am going to be alright. I am charging. I am charging._

_I should go into sleep mode in order to consume charge better._

_I should also turn my internal GPS system off._

_I am charging. I am going to be alright. I am charging._

Jihoon closed his eyes and fell asleep in the corner of the room, the metal in his foot connected to the outlet of his room.


	3. 100% Capacity.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seungcheol and Jihoon make a reckless deal.

Knock, knock-knock. “Jihoon?”

_Battery at fifty-seven percent. Disconnecting from power device._

It took Jihoon a moment to open his eyes: Seungcheol had already poked his head in the room. “Oh? What are you doing down there?”

It took a moment for Jihoon’s systems to boot. “I fell out of bed,” he simply stated.

“Oh.” Seungcheol chuckled a little. “Well I’m going to start making breakfast, so come on out whenever you’re ready.”

“Okay.” Once he was gone, Jihoon closed his eyes, running a check of all his systems.

Code flashed in front of his consciousness as he ran a systems diagnostic.

It was good – he could function – but he would have to charge all the way to 100% in order to hold his charge properly and run tertiary systems.

After that the boy simply cracked his neck and left the room.

“I’ve got hot beef rib soup,” Seungcheol said as soon as the young boy appeared. “Some rice, and fried fish too.”

“Ah… Mister Seungcheol?” Jihoon bowed. “I’m afraid I didn’t thank you properly yesterday. Thank you for allowing me to spend time in your home like this.”

“Oh! My pleasure, kiddo. You seem to be doing better than yesterday.”

“It was very cold. I wasn’t really functioning.”

“I’ll say. Sit up here.”

Jihoon took his place on a barstool that sat on the other side of the kitchen sink, watching his host work.

“Want to share with me why you were in the snow in… well, almost no clothing?”

Jihoon looked away. He did not have a system for lying. But he had definitely looked it up on the internet.

“I had to leave pretty quickly.”

Seungcheol remained silent as he mulled that over. “I see. Want some coffee? Tea?”

“Tea would be nice, please. I don’t know how to repay you for all this.”

“Well, about that…” Seungcheol blushed and looked away, a little bashful. “It’s really awkward to explain this…”

Jihoon took the cup of tea he was offered, steeling himself, ready for the worst.

“Here’s the thing. Us novelists? We’re a little, uh… well, we’re not known for amazing health regimes. And when I’m by myself I tend to get absorbed in my work and… not really… take care of my responsibilities. My company and editor have both urged me to take in a housemate or a lodger to keep me grounded to the real world, but I’ve… been too lazy to get one. This morning I woke up to about five texts to get a lodger. So uh… if you have nowhere else to go… could you stay?”

Jihoon blinked, silent processors taking in the information. “To repay you for letting me stay, you want me to stay longer?”

“Honestly, you don’t know how much that would help.”

“I don’t have any money to pay board.”

“That’s okay, you don’t need to. Just uh… hang around. Exist. Having people around reminds me that the real world exists.” Seungcheol took a deep breath, having a sip of coffee. “I mean, if you have somewhere to go, you’re free to go, no problem. Just… well.”

Jihoon sipped his tea as well. “I can’t go home,” he said softly. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”

“Then it’s settled, you’ll stay here?”

Jihoon nodded slowly. “If you like, I could do the housekeeping instead of paying rent.”

“Ah, really?” Seungcheol grinned. “Honestly, I think I struck the jackpot.”

“Ah, thank you for letting me live here.” Jihoon bowed his head again. “It’s really good.”

“Really, my pleasure. As an artist, I’m allowed a little eccentricity now and then.” Seungcheol switched off the stove, leaning over a little. “Listen, are you really nineteen?”

Jihoon smiled a little. “I’m really nineteen.”

“Damn it. I could have adopted you.”

“It’s only a five-year difference,” Jihoon said. “Do I look that young?”

“Like a large ten-year-old,” Seungcheol answered, handing a bowl of soup over. “Here, watch out, it’s hot.”

They took their food to the table and ate it in peace with each other: the eerie feeling Seungcheol had gotten yesterday seemed to have melted with the snow. This was just a young man trying to find his way in the world without oppressive parents. Seungcheol was just an eccentric novelist who needed somebody to remind him to eat.

“This is great, Jihoon. Really, thanks. I’ll be able to text my editor and get him off my back. You don’t know what kind of a solid you’ve done me.”

“I almost died in the street,” Jihoon deadpanned.

The resulting laugh was a happy one. “That’s also true. But if you weren’t here my editor might just have killed me, so I guess we’re even.” He pulled out his phone and began to text happily before throwing the phone on the couch and tucking in to his breakfast.

“Listen Jihoon,” his landlord said as they washed the dishes together. “I have to be somewhere this afternoon. Evening. Well, I have to be there at three and who knows how long it might take. I might be out until the crack of dawn.”

“Oh.”

“Will you be okay here by yourself? You can watch TV, play around on the computer in the corner… Anything you like, really. I mean, you know… don’t rob me while I’m gone.”

“I won’t.”

“Lying is bad,” Seungcheol said solemnly.

Jihoon smiled a little. “Really, I won’t.”

“Okay. Thanks, kid. Really.”

Jihoon smiled a little – this man, Seungcheol, was very easy to be around. He seemed to have a natural way of speaking. It was free, somehow – different from Father’s.

Soon Seungcheol showered, dressed and left: he mussed Jihoon’s hair on the way out. “Listen, don’t open the door to anybody that’s not me, okay?”

“I’m nineteen,” Jihoon reminded him.

“Uh, right. Just, like… stay here for a while, yeah? I hate meetings.”

Jihoon nodded, and Seungcheol left the apartment: the boy could only wait a few minutes before rushing back to his room, plugging himself back into the outlet.

_Battery is at 55% and charging._

Jihoon smiled as he relaxed against his bed. His GPS system was off, he could charge as much as he liked, and he was guaranteed a place to stay in the near future. For now, he was afforded the luxury of safety. How long that would last, the little android couldn’t tell, but he wasn’t about to dwell on that.

_Battery is at 100%. Disconnecting from power device._

It was eleven PM when Jihoon woke from his sleep mode: Seungcheol hadn’t returned yet, so it was time to make good on his promise.

The boy walked through Seungcheol’s condo, noting brands and serial numbers of machinery – toaster, oven, stove, dishwasher, washing machine, et cetera – and downloading files pertinent to those machines onto his hard drive. Within an hour he was capable of using all of them: he grappled with the vacuum cleaner for a while but eventually got the hand of it.

By the time Seungcheol got home – three AM – the apartment was clean. Vacuumed, mopped down, dusted and polished. Jihoon was curled up in his bed.

Seungcheol smiled at the sight of the small boy under a thick quilt and closed the door. “Cute,” he mumbled to himself. “Very, very cute.”


	4. Green is the Prettiest Colour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seungcheol takes Jihoon out for coffee.

“Wow. Uh… I’m sorry, I never realized.”

There were no downloadable systems on lying. It required a ton of thinking for the poor boy, and while he was programmed for innovation and problem-solving, deceit was not his best subject. It was bringing on physical pain. “Uh, it’s okay. It just means I never went to school.”

“That makes sense.” Seungcheol squeezed the boy’s shoulder. “Seems like you’ve been through a lot in those short nineteen years, huh?”

Jihoon simply nodded.

“Well… is there anything I need to help you with? Like – drive you to the hospital? Uh-”

“I’m in remission, so that’s not necessary.”

“…okay. Uh, sorry. I’m not sure how to react.”

Jihoon just shrugged. “You wanted to know where I’d garnered my education from. I only had Father and the internet.”

“I see.” The novelist took off his glasses, gently placing them on the table. “Well, that’s… uh… You must have been very close to your father.”

Jihoon nodded.

“…do you mind me asking? I mean, you’ve been here for two weeks already. What happened that made you want to leave home?”

“There was nothing left for me there.”

“But if you were so close to your dad, then-”

“Father isn’t there anymore.” Jihoon’s jaw made an audible smacking sound when it closed up shut like a clam. “He’s dead.”

“Oh, God. I’m making all the mistakes today, aren’t I?”

Jihoon cocked his head in confusion.

“I’m sorry, Jihoon. I had no idea.”

The boy simply nodded a little.

“…hey, you’ve kind of been cooped up inside here with me for a while. How about we go out and get our minds off it?”

“…our minds off it?”

“Yeah, let’s go get some coffee.” Seungcheol bustled off to the hallway before looking Jihoon up and down. “You know, I think it’s time we started working on your wardrobe. Do you still have clothes back home? We should go pick them up.”

Jihoon shook his head. “I never went out, so there was no need for me to have many clothes.”

“Oh.”

Jihoon put on a pair of Seungcheol’s shoes – far too big for him, but they’d protect him from the snow – and one of his coats. The writer’s large clothing made him look even littler. Together they stepped out into the winter wonderland; Jihoon was really enjoying the snow, bending down and taking great handfuls of it, throwing it up into the air.

“I’m guessing you never played with snow before?”

The boy shook his head. “It’s pretty.”

“Yeah?” Seungcheol stared at the drifts in the lane. “…yeah, I guess it is kind of pretty! Like frosting.” He reached out a hand for Jihoon. “We shouldn’t stick around though, or you’ll get a cold.”

_I’m not programmed to have colds,_ Jihoon thought aimlessly, pressing his hand into Seungcheol’s.

“God, you’re freezing.”

“Well, I did just have my hand in a snowdrift,” the boy answered.

The more Jihoon and Seungcheol saw each other, the more sarcastic Jihoon became: the small boy definitely had a sass program built in, and luckily his landlord thought it was simply charming.

The two walked to the nearest coffee-shop: Seungcheol let Jihoon’s hand go as soon as they had turned the corner.

“What kind of coffee do you like?”

“…”

“Ah, right. Do you prefer sweet things or bitter things?”

“…I don’t like sweet things.”

“Got it. Hey Mingyu.” Seungcheol slid up to the barista: a tall, dark-haired and very handsome young man stood there in a white shirt with sleeves pulled up and a green apron. “How’s things?”

“Hey, Cheol! Long time no see!” The barista leaned over with a broad smile. “Eh, they’ve been good, I guess. The weather, though. Oh? Who’s this?”

“Oh, right.” Seungcheol put an arm around Jihoon’s slight shoulders. “This is Jihoon, he’s my new flatmate. Jihoon this is Mingyu, we went to college together.”

Mingyu shook the small boy’s hand. “Hey there, kid. Uh…” He gave Seungcheol a look.

“Jihoon why don’t you go over and sit down, I’ll bring the coffee over in a minute.”

The small boy blinked twice and then turned his head before moving in straight lines towards the corner, taking a seat beside the window.

“How _old_ is he?”

“Nineteen,” Seungcheol grinned. “I know, right? Unbelievable.”

“So… are you two…?” Mingyu wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“God, no!” Seungcheol answered with a grimace. “I’m not a frat boy anymore, good God.”

“He’s good-looking.”

“He looks like a small animal!” Seungcheol argued. “Listen, a black coffee for him and the usual for me.”

Mingyu moved over to the till, smirking to himself. “Still… well, I guess he’s not your type in the end? You like the pretty boys with long hair and big eyes…”

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow sharply. “How’s Wonwoo?”

That wiped the smirk off the barista’s face. “Fine.” With that, he turned around to make the coffee.

Seungcheol smiled to himself, sauntering over to sit across from Jihoon. “There, Mingyu will bring the coffee over in a minute. Warming up a little?”

Jihoon nodded. His processor was running hot.

“Well, I’m making god headway on my work, so how about we go out shopping later?”

“Shopping?”

“You need some clothes, and I have some money lying ar-”

“I have money Father left me.” It wasn’t _entirely_ a lie – Father’s bank account details were stored in the small boy’s memory, and Father had not been a poor man.

“Oh.” Seungcheol sat back. “Well that’s good then! We’ll go out to the mall and get you some proper winter wear. It doesn’t look like the snow’s going to lift any time soon.” Mingyu interrupted, setting down two coffees. “Thanks, Mingyu.”

The barista smiled. “You let me know if you need anything else? You too, handsome.” He winked once at Jihoon before going back to the cash desk.

“Don’t mind him,” Seungcheol said, watching the small boy turn to watch Mingyu go. “He’s a harmless flirt.”

“…I think he’s pretty.”

“You and literally every patron of the café,” Seungcheol grinned. “Wait, pretty?”

“Faces can be pretty,” the boy responded. It was a direct quote from Father. “I think his face is pretty. Am I wrong? What makes a face pretty?”

Seungcheol smiled into the foam of his latte. “Well isn’t that a philosophical question?”

The small boy tilted his head. “It wasn’t rhetorical.”

“Well, I guess it depends on what you think is pretty.”

Jihoon blinked a few times. “I don’t know. What is pretty?”

There were many things this boy didn’t know – from how to eat a kiwi to how to tie laces – but this question certainly took the cake.

“Uh… is that a real question?”

He nodded.

“How do you not know what pretty is? Haven’t you ever seen pretty things?”

“I’ve seen snow. Father said snow was pretty a lot.”

“…other than snow?”

He thought hard. “Father used to have a picture of a woman in the living room. He said she was my Mother. He said she was the prettiest thing in life.”

“Did you think she was pretty?”

“…I don’t know. I don’t know what pretty is. I guess she was pretty, if Father said so.”

Seungcheol rubbed his forehead and pointed at the coffee cup in front of him. “Drink your coffee, let me think. How to explain prettiness.”

Jihoon took a long gulp of scalding hot coffee. He didn’t really like it – it was too bitter and tasted vaguely earthy – but he drank it nonetheless.

“I guess… everybody has their own view on pretty. If you can look at something and it gives you a happy, peaceful feeling inside, then I guess it’s pretty. Like… colours! There are lots of colours, but most people think one colour is the best. The prettiest colour. The one they like the most.”

“…green,” Jihoon answered “Green is the one I like most.”

“Then, for you, green is the prettiest colour. For me, it’s red. But I think both are pretty colours.”

“How can two colours be the prettiest? There’s two. Only one can be the prettiest.”

Seungcheol laughed. “Pretty depends on the person, not the thing. Let’s see… look at these two cups.” He pulled the cups beside each other. “See, my cup is white, plain, one colour. I don’t think it’s very pretty. I think it’s ordinary, because there’s only one colour. Whereas somebody else – for instance, I know this is Mingyu’s favourite cup. He thinks it’s the prettiest, because he likes the colour white so much. For me, I think your cup is pretty – pastel purple is a nice colour, that I like to look at. But I don’t think it’s the prettiest cup ever.”

“…so it’s an opinion based on subjective interpretations of the limits of aesthetic pleasure related to beauty?”

Seungcheol paused. “Uh, yeah.”

Jihoon sat straight, looking out the window. “Seungcheol?” He turned to his companion. “I need to relieve myself. If anybody asks about me, you’ve never seen me before. Okay?”

“…okay?”

Jihoon got up, walking to the customer’s bathroom: a few seconds after, a small group of men in suits came in.

Mingyu was out back, and there was only a woman in the café besides him: one of the men casually sauntered up to him. “Excuse me, can I ask you a question? Have you seen this boy?”

The photograph was old, obviously: Jihoon’s puffy face could only have been that of an eleven-year-old, at most. He was wearing the same clothes he had on the night Seungcheol found him.

“…no, no I’ve never seen a child like that.”

Technically, it wasn’t a lie: he really hadn’t seen any _children_ like that, since Jihoon was nineteen. He didn’t really fall into the children category anymore.

Mingyu wasn’t about to come out soon, so the delegation left soon: five minutes later Jihoon popped his head out of the bathroom and came to sit in his spot again, a little skittishly.

“…so, what was that all about?”


	5. Technology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jihoon and Seungcheol go shopping.

“Jihoon?”

The boy stuck his nose in his coffee. “They were looking for me, weren’t they?”

“Yeah, they had a really old picture of you. Must have been taken when you were really young. Why?”

Jihoon had had a feeling this question would come up: he’d been working on his lie since day three. “Father owned a large pharmaceutical company. He left all his money to me, and the company to the next CEO. They want my money to fund the company more. I’ve seen what they’ve done to other people who weren’t forthcoming with whatever they wanted.”

“…can’t you get a restraining order?”

“…no.”

Seungcheol took a deep breath. “Well, they seem to not have seen you in a few years.”

“It’s been a while, yes.”

“Drink your coffee.”

“Yes.”

The boy seemed quite shaken, but soon calmed down with his hot beverage: they walked back to the apartment together and loaded into Seungcheol’s car.

“I do enjoy a bit of shopping,” the novelist smiled to himself. “As long as I’m not alone.”

“Is shopping pretty?”

Seungcheol laughed. “No, it’s not pretty, it’s fun. What’s this obsession with pretty?”

“…I… I want to know pretty things.”

“All of them?”

“All of them. I want to know the prettiest things in life. When Father looked at the picture of Mother he was very happy. I think if I have enough pretty things, I’ll be able to be just as happy.”

The boy had a strange tone and soft lilt in his voice: they made Seungcheol fall into silence as he thought about the pain the boy had been through. He’d been born with cancer, no mother, locked in a sanitary cold room most of his life to keep him safe. He’d experienced a sadly small amount of the world. All he wanted now was to be happy. And be surrounded by things that made him happy.

“…I think that’s a nice goal to have,” he said at length, pulling into a parking spot. “I admire that, Jihoon.”

The boy smiled. “Thank you.”

The two walked through one store after another: Seungcheol helped him pick basic items – pants, underwear, shirts, shoes – and then sweaters and a coat on top of it.

“We should get you a suit, too,” Seungcheol said conversationally, holding some of Jihoon’s bags for him as they walked down the street. “All men should have at least one good suit.”

“Wow.”

Seungcheol had to walk back to where the boy was standing: in the window of the shop was a headless mannequin donning a dress.

Seungcheol had to take a good look to see why Jihoon was staring at it wide-eyed.

The dress itself was plaid black and red: it cinched at the waist with a thin black belt, ribbon detail on the side of it. It had a collar of white lace, shoulder pads and the cuffs were done up in the same white lace. The lace ran around the hem, as well: the skirt sat out in a bulbous shape off the hips, and ceased mid-thigh.

“Ah…”

“What a pretty dress!” the small boy gasped, staring with wide eyes.

“…I suppose it is. Is this one of the pretty things you want?”

The light in the small boy’s eyes dulled suddenly. “Dresses are for girls,” he said, almost as if he was reciting it. “Boys don’t wear dresses. Boys don’t buy dresses.”

Seungcheol thought about that. He agreed. Boys don’t buy dresses. But Jihoon just wanted to be happy, surrounded by pretty things. Was it so bad if he wanted to buy what was admittedly a very pretty dress? The novelist looked down at the boy – small, slight and sweet-faced. If he had had longer hair, he could have passed for a girl, anyway.

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t. If you want pretty things, you should get pretty things. Let’s go inside and buy it.”

“What, really?”

“Of course. If you think it’s pretty, you should buy it no matter what.”

The entire exchange brought a pink flush to Jihoon’s face, but he did it: marched into the show, picked up one of the dresses and paid for it.

“Happy now?” Seungcheol asked, mussing the boy’s hair a little.

He nodded. “I feel funny! Like there’s a buzzing.”

“That’s happy, alright.”

After that, Seungcheol dragged the boy into an atelier.

“Hoshi?” he called at the empty desk. “Hooooooshi!”

“Do you want to die?” a muffled answer came back before a head popped out: the man came from under the desk, growling. “What, Seungcheol?”

“Well, aren’t we a friendly face.”

“Computer won’t start up. I’ll have to call a technician.”

Jihoon turned his head. “Want me to take a look at it?”

Both men looked at him. “You’re good with computers, Jihoon?”

The boy simply nodded.

“…yes please?”

Jihoon slid around the desk and lay down on his back, staring at the PC case. Gently, he tweaked the case off to expose its innards.

“Uh, Hoshi this is Jihoon, my new flat mate. Jihoon, Hoshi.”

“Hello,” Jihoon answered, not looking away from the mess of wires.

“Hi.”

A moment passed in silence.

“Ah, I see the problem.”

“Really?”

“A wire’s come loose from the hard drive. Do you have a soldering machine?”

Hoshi’s mouth became a hard line. “Do I look like a man with a soldering machine?”

“…lighter?”

“A lighter, I have.”

“Okay. I’ll need to take the hard drive out first. Bear with me.” Within a couple of moments, the boy had pulled part of the computer from its case, laying it down on the desk. “See, here. The wire’s been frizzled away. I’ll need a screwdriver, too, a small one.”

Hoshi ducked into another room to retrieve the items.

“I didn’t know you were good with technology, Jihoon.”

“Didn’t have much else to do at home.” _I **am** technology. Stupid._

Forty minutes later, Jihoon was placing the hard drive back into the metal case, wire properly reattached: soon the computer was starting up again with such a loud whirring noise it made the small boy flinch back.

“Wow, Jihoon. That was amazing. Thank you so much!”

“Not a problem.” The boy dusted himself off. “Give me a couple of hours and I could take care of that God-awful sound, too.”

“I think this is enough for today,” Seungcheol intervened. “Soonyoung, we’re looking for a suit for this young man.”

The tailor put a measuring tape around his neck with ease. “Come to the right place then. Follow me Jihoon, let’s get our measurements.”

Eventually it was decided the boy would have two suits: a black one and a dark blue one, for more casual days. Hoshi was simply happy to be making a suit so _small_.

“Hey Jihoon? Can you really fix the whirring sound?”

“Yeah.”

“Sunday is good for me, I’ll make one of the suits for free. It frightens customers.”

“Done deal,” the boy replied with a smile. “Sunday it is.”

Hoshi slipped the boy a card with his number on it. “Call me before you come over, okay handsome?”

Seungcheol hooshed his friend out of the store _really_ quickly then. “How come everybody is so infatuated with you?” he teased. “Time to go home?”

Jihoon looked at the small card in his hands. He wasn’t built for telecommunication. He could, hypothetically, create some code and hack into the nearest telephone centre, but it would take a lot of effort to incorporate telecommunication code into his own.

“…I don’t have a phone,” he said slowly.

“Ah. One more stop then.”

Once Jihoon was fitted with the very latest model in telecommunications – he tried not to scorn the phone’s capabilities in comparison with his own, more sophisticated system – the two were back on their way home, warming up in the car.

“This was fun,” Seungcheol smiled.

“It was enjoyable to get some air, yes.”

“What do you want to eat tonight?”

“Whatever you want to eat. I’m not picky.”

“You never choose anything, though. I have no idea what kind of food you like.”

Jihoon shrugged a little. “I never had much difference in food back home.”

“Any foods you’d like to try for the first time?”

The boy thought about it, his eyes scanning the road. “…pizza?”

Seungcheol slammed on the breaks. “You’re nineteen years old and you’ve never had _pizza_?”

The boy shook his head.

“Oh man,” Seungcheol grinned, turning the car down a new road. “You are going to _love_ this.”


	6. Satan is evil. Eat your pizza.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jihoon is cute. He and Seungcheol are bros. Hoshi is a flirt.

Tears trailed down the small boy’s face.

“What? What’s wrong?”

He swallowed. “It’s so good,” he sniffed.

Seungcheol laughed, stuffing half a slice of pizza into his mouth in one go. “I’m glad you like it,” he mumbled over the salami.

“They have different flavours?” Jihoon gasped, wiping his face. “I need to try them all.”

“Not right now you don’t,” his landlord answered. “Eat what you have first, then you’ll be stuffed.”

The boy munched through his pizza happily, wiggling on his seat. “This is so good. But…” He looked down at the last slice in front of him. “It’s not a nutritionally balanced diet.”

“No, it’s called junk food, and you should only have it on special occasions.”

“It’s missing most of the vitamins. The base has some minerals in it though.”

“Like I said, that’s junk food.”

“If it’s not nutritionally balanced, why is it so good?”

“Because Satan is evil. Eat your pizza.”

 

* * *

 

Jihoon spent the rest of the evening hanging up all his clothes in the wardrobe in his room: shoes went in front of the wardrobe in a perfect little line, underwear and pyjamas were put in a set of drawers.

Jihoon sighed wistfully at the dress on the hanger. It really was extraordinarily pretty – and would it make a girl look pretty, too? Would it make him look pretty?

“…if you’re that infatuated, try it on.”

The boy jumped, staring at the man leaning in the doorway. “But dresses are girls’ clothes! And I’m a boy!”

“But you like it that much, and you bought it. It would be a pity not to at least try it on.” Seungcheol turned around, pulling the door shut after himself. “I’m cleaning the bathroom if you need me.”

Jihoon turned to look at the dress.

Well, maybe it _was_ a bit of a waste to buy such a pretty dress and not try it on, at least.

Seungcheol had just finished scrubbing the sink when he came out again: Jihoon stood in front of the only full-sized mirror in the hallway, staring at himself.

Seungcheol’s jaw dropped a little.

He looked _cute_. Very cute. Excluding the hairy legs, he looked just like a girl with short hair: the dress was a snug fit but it had padding in the chest, just in case any female wearers were less endowed.

“Wow.”

Jihoon turned in surprise, pulling the skirt down a little at the front, going pink. “D-don’t look!”

“But it looks cute!”

He froze. “It does?”

“M-hm.” He walked over, pulling down his rubber gloves. “You look a lot like a girl.”

“But I’m a boy.”

“I know that.”

They both turned to look at Jihoon in the mirror. Slowly, his face became pinker, but his fingers trailed over the fabric and lace points.

“It’s a very nice dress. Maybe you should keep it clean for now and only wear it on, uh… special occasions. Okay?”

Jihoon nodded once and hurried back into his room: within minutes he was in a pair of his new jeans and a white button-up shirt, a small bundle in his arms. “Ah, it’s time I returned your clothes…”

“Oh right, thanks, here.” Seungcheol took them, moving to stuff them in the washing machine. “You look good in those, by the way. They’re a better fit than my clothes.”

Jihoon rubbed the collar of his shirt between his fingers. “Yeah.”

“Comfortable?”

“Yeah I guess so.”

“Aren’t you cold?”

“I suppose, a little.”

“…then…maybe… get a sweater on?”

“…right.”

After helping to clean the bathroom in a brand-new dark blue sweater with the label still attached to it, Jihoon looked at the television. “Hey, Seungcheol? Do you mind if I watch a movie?”

“Sure. Are there any good ones on?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen many movies, but this one called Jupiter Ascending is on and-”

“Jupe Ascending?” Seungcheol crowed, pulling off his apron. “Yes! That’s one of my favourites. Let’s watch it together!”

“O-okay?”

“I’ll make popcorn. You get out beer!”

Jihoon silently grabbed a few cans of beer from the cabinet, silently setting them on the coffee table before switching on the television, finding the channel he needed.

A loud popping sound started up from the kitchen, but Seungcheol smiled. “It’s just the popcorn.”

Five minutes later the two of them were on the couch, watching the opening scene to Jupiter Ascending, a large bowl of hot buttery popcorn in between them. Seungcheol was lounged against the corner, and Jihoon was perched on the edge of his seat, back straight as a broomstick.

“Jihoon, don’t you ever sit comfortably?”

“What do you mean?”

Seungcheol pointed at himself and then his flatmate. “Just relax.”

“Your current body position, if maintained, will cause your spinal cord to weaken and adjust to an incorrect structure, leading to bad posture, various internal organs being squeezed together, and eventually, the break-down of the correct position of your entire skeletal structure including your shoulders, neck and knees.”

“Shut up and come here.” Seungcheol pulled Jihoon in until the boy was practically lying on top of him. “There, see? It’s comfortable, right?”

The boy didn’t move. “I… suppose?”

“Don’t be so rigid. Relax.” Seungcheol put his arms around the boy a little. “You’ve been living here long enough to know that I’m harmless… right?”

Jihoon thought about the morning he’d woken up to Seungcheol screaming because there was a bug in the bathtub.

“Right,” he agreed.

“Why are you so stiff then? _Relax._ We’re buddies now. Bros.”

“Bros?”

“Short for brothers.”

“Oh.” Jihoon slowly relaxed until he was cuddled up, pressing the side of his face against Seungcheol’s shoulder. “…bros.”

Seungcheol smiled.

 

* * *

 

“You’re a life saver, Jihoon.”

“Nah,” the boy smiled toothily, working with the wires. “This is kind of a hobby to me. I enjoy it.”

“Here, hot chocolate.”

“Oh, thanks.” The boy untangled himself from the wires to take the cup, sipping it.

Hoshi leaned in a little. “Really, thanks for helping me out though. If I can ever return any favours…”

“I don’t think so,” the boy said obliviously. “It’s fine.”

“Really.” Hoshi stole an arm around the boy’s waist. “Any favour at all.”

“Well… answer me a question?”

“Shoot.”

Jihoon put down his cup and stuck his nose into the mass of wires again, his soft, lean fingers playing around. “Why does Seungcheol call you Hoshi one moment and Soonyoung the next?”

The man grinned. “Hoshi was the name I got in high school. It’s a long story. Soonyoung’s my real name.”

“Oh. That clears that up… there. Let’s put her back together.” Jihoon began reassembling the metal case around the computer. “I fixed the sound, and with any luck it’ll run a lot faster, too. But you have a really, _really_ old video card. You might want to get that replaced soon before the whole thing is destroyed.”

“Damn, thanks.”

“Please remember to vacuum inside here once every so often though.”

“Hey Jihoon, go on a date with me.”

The boy dropped a sheet of metal in surprise, not even noticing when it dropped on his toe. “…dates are for boys and girls.”

“Ah… but sometimes, boys go on dates with boys too.”

“Uh…”

“I’ll take good care of you, promise. It’s just out for a movie, I promise. I’ll have you home before midnight.”

“A movie…” The boy picked up the metal. “I like movies.”

“Is that a yes?”

“…sure, I guess.”

“Jihoon, you’re the best.”

“Uh… no problem.”

Hoshi pecked the boy on the cheek with a happy smile.

Jihoon blushed all the way home.


	7. Nanobots? He has nanobots?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jihoon needs part of his machinery repaired. He visits an old friend who doesn't really want to see him.

Jihoon came out of his room wearing his thick snow boots, fully dressed, and gripping a messenger bag. “Seungcheol?”

“Hmm?” The hard-working novelist was playing Solitaire on his PC.

“I need your help.”

“Yeah, what’s up?” He turned, pushing up the glasses on his nose. “Where you going?”

“Can you drive me somewhere?”

“Yeah, sure.” The novelist saved his game and stood to grab a jacket. “I… hope it’s nothing serious?”

The boy bit his lip, but shook his little head anyway. “No, it’s uh… almost a social visit.”

“Almost?”

“I’m seeing a friend, but he’s not going to be happy about it. He’s not a friend that wants to see me.”

Seungcheol pulled a face, slipping into his boots and coat. “Doesn’t sound like much of a friend.”

Jihoon briskly walked out to the car, waiting as patiently as he could: when Seungcheol was finally strapped in, he opened his GPS system. “Where to?”

Jihoon slowly switched the GPS system off again. “Mind if I give you directions? I don’t know his address.”

Seungcheol had learned to deal with the boy’s quirks: he simply started driving, heeding all the instructions Jihoon gave him until he got to a tall apartment building. A little worse for wear, but not in a particularly bad part of town.

“Need me to wait here for you?”

He shook his head. “No, he’ll probably give me a ride back. Thanks, Seungcheol, I really appreciate it.”

The boy waited at the bottom of the apartment block until Seungcheol was out of sight: then, picking out some hairpins, he easily unlocked the door. The quick elevator ride to the twelfth floor was no difficulty, but ringing the doorbell wasn’t an easy feat for the poor android.

“Hell- HELL NO.” The small face that had appeared in a crack in the doorway disappeared as it was slammed shut. “Go away, Jihoon!”

“Chan, please.”

“Do you want me to die, too?”

“Chan!” Jihoon slammed his fist on the door. “I need your help.”

“Go away!”

There was a moment of silence before Jihoon pulled out his hairpins again.

The door finally opened and a strong arm pulled the small boy inside, shutting the door instantly. “If you’re going to go to all the fuss of picking the lock… make it snappy. What are you here for?”

The fear and desperation in Jihoon’s eyes was too real. “I think I broke something.”

Chan paused. “I’m not a surgeon and I’m not the Doctor.”

“Please? Just help me out, just this one time?”

“I don’t know if I _can_.”

“Just take a look at it?”

“Why can’t you?”

“It’s my toe and, well.” The boy stretched his arms out, wiggling his fingers. “Small arms only go so far.”

In the end, Chan wiped his floor clean of dust and items, putting down ample plastic sheets before letting the small android boy lie down on it. Jihoon took off his boots with ease: the sock came off a little slower.

“Oh God,” Chan groaned at the sight of the blood.

“Shut up,” the boy gruffed a moment. “Here, see? It’s the small one, the mini-USB.”

Chan grimaced, holding back his gag reflex as he look a closer look. “Oh God Jihoon, your toe is hanging off by a thread.”

“I’m here for your skills as a computer scientist, not a surgeon,” Jihoon finally snapped. “Can you at least check the damage done to my USB stick or not?”

“Yeah. Let me get some sponges and water.” Ten minutes of girlish whining later, the small computer genius had gotten rid of the blood and flesh, taking a close look. “Man, what did you do to this? It’s shattered.”

“Dropped a really heavy computer casing on it.”

“Ouch?”

“Yeah.”

“…it’s no good, if you want it, you’re going to have to get a new one implanted.”

Jihoon looked up at his friend.

“What, are you _kidding_?” Chan asked in shock. “There’s no way! I’m not the Doctor! I can’t-”

“Don’t worry about the human flesh, my nanobots can take care of it in due time. I don’t like feeling so… un-whole.” The boy squirmed uncomfortably. “I want a new mini USB stick, Chan.”

The boy sighed deeply. “Honestly, this kid… the things I do for you. Did you at least bring tools?”

The boy nodded, opening his bag. Setting aside the thick stack of money that obviously was to bribe Chan off, he pulled out a kit. “All you need is the scalpel and needle and thread. It’s not as pig of a deal as you think.”

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

Chan took the scalpel and doused it in rubbing alcohol before gulping, sliding the blade up Jihoon’s foot a little. “Oh gross. I hate the Doctor, too.” He pulled away the skin, revealing the casing for the USB stick. “Wait, I think I can just plug in a new one without messing with any internal stuff. Otherwise you’ll have to walk me through it. Hold on.” With a pair of surgical tweezers the android had brought he gently dislodged the flattened piece of metal.

He dropped it on the plastic. “Remind me that if I ever find anybody who thinks incorporating a biomechanical consciousness into an embryo, I should shoot that person.”

“Technically it’s not a consciousness. Technically I’m just a human boy with mechanical implants.”

“That you would literally stop functioning without,” Chan added sarcastically. “Like you know, a processor that runs right down your back, a battery that will kill you if you run out of charge, and enough RAMs of memory to beat any human being at literally anything.”

“Mhm.”

“Speaking of, how’s the battery doing?”

“When I came over I was at 52%.”

“Yeah? And now?” The boy gently dunked a new mini-USB stick in alcohol, rubbing off any excesses.

“We’re quickly seeping below 46%.”

“Better get a move-on then.” The new USB stick was implanted without much problem: then Chan was offered the task of sewing Jihoon’s flesh back together around it.

The boy looked up at his friend sleepily. “Don’t worry about the cap. My nanobots will fix it.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey Chan, since you’re already helping me out…”

“What?”

“I think there’s a faulty wire in my processor.”

“Oh, no.”

The boy looked up with the saddest, most beautifully desperate expression. “Please, Chan. You’re the only one who can do this for me. I’m counting on you to keep my hardware going.”

The young man closed his eyes. “Turn over then, shirt off.”

It only took a few small cuts to figure out the problem: some blood had crystallized in a crevice. “What happened, did you stand in a snow drift for an hour?”

“About six, actually.”

“Well, that would do it, huh.” Chan cleaned the blood away, sighing as the processor light blinked once but didn’t make even the slightest of whirring sounds as it claimed full capacity. “That’s some fine dandy handiwork there, that processor,” the man grinned, sewing Jihoon back up. “Amazing stuff.”

“You’re the boss,” Jihoon admitted. “My components are masterpieces. You really are an artist.”

“I love that you flatter me.”

“I love that you fix me.”

“Well after all, the Doctor might have created you, but sourced your components to me. You’re a fine piece of work, Jihoon.”

Then he bandaged Jihoon’s foot and back, once he was relatively sewn up: within a few more minutes the android boy was up again, helping his friend burn the blood in chemicals in the bathtub.

“Thanks, Chan. You’ve really done me a solid.”

“Yeah, well. Now that the Doctor’s gone, I gotta look out for you somehow, huh.” Chan turned his head suddenly. “Where are you staying?”

“With somebody.”

“In a house?”

“Apartment.”

“Yeah? What’s his name?”

Normally, Jihoon would have told him. He’d tell Chan anything. He trusted the small computer genius with his life. But under the circumstances it was better to lie. “Soohyuk.”

“Soohyuk, huh.”

“He’s really good to me. He lets me stay at his place rent-free for doing the chores in the house.”

“…he’s not abusing you, right?”

“No! He’d never.”

“Look, Jihoon, you can’t stay in somebody’s place without paying some kind of rent. You should get a job. You’re capable now.”

“What kind of job?”

“Tech support.”

Jihoon wrinkled his nose. “Nice.”

“Well, okay then. You could do anything. I mean, you could download literally any system or manual.”

The boy thought about it, disinfecting his hands and then Chan’s. “Anything? So… if I wanted to, I could be… a jeweler?”

“A world of occupations, you want to work at a till?”

“Diamonds are pretty.”

Chan simply rolled his eyes. “Well, you’re all fixed up now. Try not to let anybody see you leave. I don’t want to end up like the Doc. No offense.”

“None taken.”

The two cleaned up and Jihoon packed his bag again.

“Listen, Jihoon…” Chan sighed a little. “Maybe we should start meeting up.”

“I have a phone now. I can text,” the android said proudly.

“Well, text me then. You know my number. We’ll text for a bit. I’d like that. I haven’t seen you in a while.” Chan put his arms around the boy happily. “You’re safe, though, right?”

“Yes. S… Soohyuk is taking good care of me. We’re bros.”

Chan smiled. “Well, good! That’s good.”

“Yeah… he is.”

“Jihoon, what happened to the doc…” Chan bit his lip. “I know it wasn’t what it seems to be. And I’m worried about you. Promise me you’re going to be okay and take care of yourself from now on? I don’t want you to get hurt anymore. You should be cherished. You’re an android, so it’s easy to forget that you also have a human brain and a heart, but… you’re also still _just_ nineteen.”

Jihoon smiled warmly. “I’m okay. I’m discovering new things all the time. The other day I had _pizza_.”

“Yeah, how was it?”

“Nutritionally unbalanced.”

Chan laughed.

“But good.”

“I’m glad you’re being taken care of, kid. Text me, okay?”

“I will. Thanks Chan!”

Once the small android had left, Chan sank to the ground a little. He would never tell Jihoon that he knew what had _really_ happened to the Doctor – or at least, he didn’t plan on ever telling him. But every time he so much as thought about the illegal android, it almost sent the computer whizz into cardiac arrest.

Because Jihoon was _forbidden._ He was an illegal, immoral mix of machine and human. And he was _dangerous._

And it was anybody’s best guess how long it would take before the robot-boy’s second, secret processor was engaged and switched on. And when _that_ happened… could anybody still be sure of their lives?


	8. SoonHoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soonyoung and Jihoon go out on a date. Seungcheol flips.

The boy just lay down on the floor on his stomach, head over a book, ankles crossed in the air: he wasn’t actually reading, though. He was looking up at Seungcheol.

When the novelist was actually working instead of his regular motions of gross procrastination, it was kind of admirable.

Seungcheol, Jihoon had decided, was not an ugly man. He had thick lips, round eyes and a charming laugh. And when he wore those slight golden-rimmed glasses while he worked at his laptop, it was for some reason very attractive. Even when he hadn’t shaved in three days and was lounging in his pyjamas. There was a kind of masculine air around him that made Jihoon smile.

He knew better, however, than to interrupt Seungcheol when he was in _The Zone._ The man could go about 36 hours without drinking, eating, relieving himself or even sleeping. It was actually a little scary. Normal human beings couldn’t do that, but Seungcheol absolutely could. And breaking _The Zone_ to eat a meal and exercise his body chased away _The Zone_ for at least three hours, which really pissed the poor novelist off.

“Seungcheol,” Jihoon eventually sighed, knowing full well the novelist wouldn’t really hear him. “I have a date now. I’ll get you some cup ramen first before I go.” Within a few minutes he put the cup beside his landlord on the table. “I’ll see you later.”

“Mm, yeah.”

Jihoon smiled, shaking his head a little before leaving: he’d done extensive research on what was a good date-outfit, and what the general procedures of a date were. So he’d left in the tight black jeans Seungcheol had said were very _hot_ and a simple white button-up shirt with a leather jacket. It was a little cold, but even the android had to admit he looked like a magazine cover.

Soonyoung was waiting outside the theatre, hands delved deep into the pockets of his coat. When he saw Jihoon he grew a smirk, waiting for the small boy to come closer before pulling him and kissing him on the forehead for a moment. “Hello there, handsome.”

“H-Hi.”

Soonyoung grinned. “First date with a guy?”

“First date.”

“What, ever? A handsome guy like you? No way!” He took Jihoon’s hand in his. “There’s no way, right?”

Jihoon just blushed.

“This is really your first date?”

He nodded.

“Well, I’ll do my best to make it great, hm? Come on. There are movies to be watched.” The two went inside: Jihoon ordered tickets – as much standard social interaction as the shielded android could handle – while Soonyoug got popcorn.

Somewhere in the middle of the movie, Soonyoung’s arm slid around Jihoon’s shoulders. The boy had been expecting it, but he hadn’t realized it would be just that _uncomfortable_ – especially since his date was a twinge away from poking his elbow into Jihoon’s processor.

Eventually the lights went on again, and Soonyoung stretched a little, blinking. “Hey, you wanna go grab something to eat?”

“Sure.”

Soonyoung held Jihoon’s hand as they left the movie theatre, pulling him onto the cold streets but keeping him close. “What do you want to eat? Pizza?”

“I already had pizza the other week.” Jihoon paused. “It’s not good for you.”

Soonyoung chuckled. “Burgers then?”

“I’ve never had a burger.”

This statement led to Soonyoung choking on his own tongue before he managed to drag Jihoon to the nearest McDonalds, ordering Big Mac menus for both of them: he slid the burger Jihoon’s way, giving him an intense look. “Eat that.”

Jihoon opened the box and speculated for a moment. “There is an inordinate amount of grease dripping from the meat in this.”

“That’s why you have bread. To soak it up. Eat it.”

“…these vegetables do not have sufficient nutritional value to offset the-”

“Eat it!”

Jihoon picked up his hamburger, watching Soonyoung dig into his own food nervously before attempting to recreate the movement.

“Ah, it… tastes like meat and bread.”

Soonyoung stared. “Really, that’s it?”

“…it’s not as good as pizza.”

“Jihoon? You are one weird guy.”

“Yeah. I get that a lot.” Nonetheless, he ate it: it really didn’t agree with him, but he supposed that was unavoidable.

Soonyoung simply smiled after he had eaten, watching Jihoon finish his drink with an intense gaze.

“What?”

“Just looking at you.”

Jihoon looked away nervously, and then back. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“You’re very sexy.”

The boy choked on the soda he’d just slurped from his straw: he turned to cough into his fist for a while before looking up.

“Uh…?”

Soonyoung simply sat there smiling. “You heard me. I think you’re very sexy.”

It took Jihoon a moment, his neck heating up as his processor worked double-time. “But I haven’t made any sexual advances, nor am I predominantly concerned over sex and sexuality.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re not sexy.”

“…but that’s exactly what it means.”

Soonyoung sighed, a smile on his face. “Just trust me on this. You’re very sexy.”

Jihoon was a little piqued at that, but didn’t comment further: he just wrapped his lips around his straw again to finish his soda.

“Hey? Let’s go have a walk.”

“It’s dark outside. It will impair your vision.”

“It’ll be fine.”

Their short bickering was interrupted by the loud ringing of a telephone: Jihoon gripped the device, checking the caller ID before answering. “Seungcheol? I thought you were in _The Zone_?”

“Where are you?” In the background there was the loud thrumming of a motor starting up. “Where are you!?”

Jihoon frowned a little. He hadn’t expected Seungcheol to sound so angry. “Uh, I’m at McDondalds.”

“Are you alone?!”

“No, Soonyoung’s here.”

“You’re out with Soonyoung?!”

“Yes.”

“Where? I’m coming to pick you up.”

“Ah, you don’t have to do that, hyung. Soonyoung and I are going to-”

There was a loud screeching of tires. “So help me God, Jihoon, I. Am. Coming. To. Pick. You. Up.”

Jihoon sighed a little, reciting their address perfectly.

“I’ll be there in seven minutes.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

Seungcheol was the first to hang up – Jihoon looked up apologetically. “Sorry, Soonyoung. Seems like Seungcheol’s angry with me.”

“Aw, that’s okay,” Soonyoung smiled, getting up. “We can take that walk another day.”

The two of them moved to stand at the corner of the street, waiting in the darkness for Seungcheol to pull up, and pull up he did: the car tires screeching as he hit the brakes on the corner. The window rolled down to show a dark expression. “Get in the car,” he growled.

Jihoon pulled a face and turned to Soonyoung. “Thanks for today. I had fun.”

“Me too, cutie.” Soonyoung cupped Jihoon’s cheeks, leaning in to give the boy a sweet peck on the lips.

Seungcheol hit the car horn. Loudly. “Did you not hear me, Lee Jihoon? I said get in the car!”

Jihoon sighed and opened the door. “I’ll text you.”

Seungcheol’s arm reached out to grip Jihoon’s jacket, pulling him into the seat, closing the door behind him. “Watch yourself, Hoshi,” he threatened bleakly before turning the car at a high speed, racing through the streets.

Jihoon simply sat and observed.

Seungcheol remained as silent as the grave, and that was enough to let Jihoon know how much trouble he was in: his knuckled were white on the steering wheel, and his expression was so dark and brooding it made Jihoon curl away a little.

“If you keep gripping the steering wheel like that you’ll get spasms,” the small android mumbled.

“What exactly did you think you were doing?! Going out with Hoshi?!”

“It was just a date…”

“A _date_!?”

His tone was enough to get Jihoon to shut up for the rest of the ride: when the novelist parked the car he simply gripped his house mate, pulling him along until they were both in the house. Jihoon was forced to sit down on the couch while Seungcheol paced to and fro in front of him for a moment.

“I do not understand,” the android said slowly, “why you are so angry.”

Seungcheol finally sat on the couch as well, gripping Jihoon’s little body closer to his own. “I’m _angry,_ ” he whispered, “because I got out of _The Zone_ and you were just _gone_. No note, no text, nothing. You were just, poof, gone. I was so worried.” His tone was more broken, softer as he hugged Jihoon to his chest, one hand stroking through the boy’s hair. “So, so worried about you.”

To make himself more comfortable, Jihoon put his little arms around Seungcheol too. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“You should be.” There was no malice left in Seungcheol’s tone, despite the words. “A little boy like you could have been so hurt… I tried calling you earlier but your phone was off, Jihoon, I’ve never been so worried about anybody before in my life.” His hand just kept going through Jihoon’s hair, the arm around his waist holding strong. The novelist buried his face in Jihoon’s neck. “I could only imagine what had happened… why you hadn’t left a note… that you were gone…”

Jihoon simply sat there for a moment. “You don’t want me to leave your apartment?”

“No! I’ve grown so accustomed to you, Jihoonie.” Seungcheol pulled back to smooth a thumb over Jihoon’s cheek, looking him in the eye. “You’re like a… well, like a brother to me. Of course I want you to stay… I like having you here…”

“Oh.”

Seungcheol sighed, hugging Jihoon tightly again with both arms now. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Jihoon smoothed his palm over Seungcheol’s back. “Thanks for picking me up.”

Seungcheol nodded. “…we should go to bed. Both of us.”

“Mm.”

Ten minutes later, the little android boy was tucked under the covers, ready to go into sleep mode. Seungcheol placed a glass of water beside his bed. “Need anything else?”

He shook his head.

“Good night, Jihoonie.”

“Good night, Seungcheol.”


	9. Grindr is not a Pretty Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeonghan comes for a visit. Jihoon discovers the vastness that is Grindr.

“Hello?”

The woman had beautifully shiny red hair, looking up at the camera, but the moment she opened her mouth, Jihoon realized it wasn’t a woman at all. “Seungcheol? You haven’t texted me back in days.”

Jihoon sent a wilful glare to where he knew Seungcheol was working in his room. As the novelist has promised, now that he was _in The Zone_ , his editor had come by to check he was still alive.

Without another sound, Jihoon pressed the button to open the door downstairs, opening the one in the hallway ever so slightly before stomping into Seungcheol’s room.

“Your editor is here,” he grumped.

“Mhm.”

Jihoon sighed loudly, gripping a stack of dirty plates off the end of the novelist’s bed. To be honest, it was a bit disgusting how the man could live when in _The Zone_ – he had a complete disregard for his own health and safety. The weight of the dishes was automatically weighed in the android’s arms – 4.6 kilograms – before it was all dumped in the sink.

The beautiful man with red hair walked into the apartment with a subconscious kind of elegance, starting at the boy in the kitchen.

“Oh, hello,” he smiled, bending his knees a little, hands on his thighs. “And who are you?”

“I’m Jihoon.” The boy washed his hands after touching Seungcheol’s dirty plates.

“Is Uncle Seungcheol taking good care of you?”

Jihoon’s mouth became a hard line. “Cheol is in his room.”

“Oh, aren’t you just a grown-up lad, calling him that?”

Jihoon decided not to comment on that. “Are you his editor?”

“Yes I am! Do you know what that is?”

The android had to take a _deep_ breath. “Yes.”

“Well now, that’s just grand. Let me just go in and check up on Uncle Seungcheol, okay?”

_Your loss_ , Jihoon thought.

Jeonghan only really popped his head into Seungcheol’s room to see that the man was very deeply absorbed in his work before coming out, seeming very satisfied.

He sat next to Jihoon on the couch, with what Jihoon thought to be a complete disregard for the book in the android’s hands.

“So then, you must be very lonely with Uncle Seungcheol busy, hm?”

“Not really.”

“Is your mom coming to pick you up at the end of the day, hm?”

“Doubt it.”

“Dad, then.”

Jihoon didn’t respond.

“Ah, are you staying overnight with Uncle Cheollie then? That must be it.”

“I’ll say.”

“It won’t be a very fun sleepover if he’s working. Do you want me to make him come out and play with you?”

“No thank you.”

“What a polite little boy.”

_This polite little boy has a body of steel, literally, and could dent your face for all of eternity._

“Is Uncle Cheol at least feeding you properly, hm? Did he give you lots of yummy snacks?”

Before the _polite little boy_ could become too exasperated, Seungcheol came around the corner as if just awakened from a trance. “Jihoonie, can you he- oh, Jeonghan. You were here.”

Jeonghan sprang up to put his arms around Seungcheol, pecking his cheek. “Cheollie! You didn’t text me back anymore. I was so worried, so I came over.”

Seungcheol smiled softly, hugging Jeonghan’s waist close. “You missed me, huh?”

“M-hm.” Jeonghan smiled, leaning his head on Seungcheol’s shoulder. “How far are you?”

“I’d say about three quarters in.”

“Well done! You’re working so hard.” Jeonghan twirled a strand of Seungcheol’s hair. “While you were working, I’ve been talking to your little friend here. I didn’t know you were responsible enough to baby-sit.”

Seungcheol bit his lip nervously. “Oh, God. Sorry, Jihoonie.”

The boy didn’t even look up from his book, only giving the O.K. sign.

“Jeonghan, Jihoon is my new flat mate. He’s nineteen.”

Jeonghan burst into giggles, smiling at Jihoon. “Isn’t Uncle Seungcheol funny?”

Jihoon closed the book and looked up at Seungcheol. “I’m confused. Is there some sort of custom in which I should be calling my landlord Uncle? If so, I regret to inform you that you’ve been frightfully negligent in explaining my duties to me. Uncle.”

Jeonghan froze, glancing between the two men. “…what? Really? Oh… oh my God. I’m so sorry. I – I thought.”

“It’s fine. A combination of my less-than-average height and round face make it easy for people to mistake me as a child.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I assumed that was impolite.” Jihoon turned to Seungcheol. “What did you need?”

“…can you go out for groceries?”

“I already went this morning.”

“What would I do without you?”

“Go out for groceries yourself.”

Seungcheol smiled kindly. “You’re the best, Jihoonie. Ah, sorry for going AWOL, Jeonghan. I just want to get the original draft finished.”

“That’s okay,” Jeonghan smiled. “Since you’re getting on with it, I’ll forgive you. Just this once!”

The way the two doted on each other made Jihoon a little uneasy, for no reason at all. “If you wanted ramen, they’re in the cupboard.”

“Aw, Jihoon, make us something to eat. Please? It’s lunch time. Let’s all eat together.”

“I’m not hungry. Go out for a meal. Get some fresh air.”

“Aw, please Jihoon.” Seungcheol turned to Jeonghan. “He is a really good cook.”

“No, let me treat you guys to something nice. As an apology for thinking Jihoon was a kid. Is that okay?”

Jihoon perked up one ear. “…can we get pizza?”

Seungcheol laughed.

“Sure.”

Twenty minutes later they were sitting around the table, engaging in what Jihoon called _unhealthiness of the worst kind._ Nobody really minded as much as they pretended to.

Jeonghan stayed over for a movie under the protective arm of the novelist he was to take care of: Jihoon spent the time on his phone.

“Wasn’t that a great movie Jihoon?”

“Indiana Jones’ participation changed absolutely nothing in the great story line.”

“What _have_ you been doing on that phone?” Jeonghan wondered out loud.

“I downloaded a new app. It’s called _Grindr._ ”

The two men cuddling on the couch looked at each other warily.

“I gathered that I knew less people than you did and decided to broaden my scope of contacts. But there are some very strange people on this app.”

“Are any of them hot?”

“Jeonghan!” Seungcheol scolded. “Time for you to go home, I think.”

“I suppose most of them run on anywhere between 36 and 37 degrees Celsius.”

Jeonghan laughed. “He’s funny! Listen, guys, I have to go. Jihoonie! Take care of my prized novelist, won’t you?” Jeonghan pulled on his coat and scarf, giving Seungcheol big goo-goo eyes. “He’s a very special person.”

Seungcheol smiled. “Off with you, tyrant.”

“Me? Never!”

Seungcheol walked his editor back downstairs before returning, locking the door for the night.

Jihoon looked up from his phone, putting the device down. “You hold romantic interest in him, don’t you?”

“In who?”

“Jeonghan.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“When you first saw him your pupils dilated and your heart beat sped up. When he touched you over the course of the evening your body temperature went up as well. Your cheeks flushed and you canoodled on the couch over a movie,” the boy observed.

Seungcheol froze a moment then coughed, righting the cushions on the couch. “Well okay, maybe I have a little crush on him. But it’s an innocent little thing.”

“I thought it was unethical to develop feelings for one’s closest co-workers.”

“It’s only unethical if you act on them.”

“Oh.” He returned to his phone.

“Are you _really_ on Grindr?”

“It’s a _Great Way To Meet Men in My Area_ , you know. I’m confused by the conversation we are having though.”

“For instance?”

“This man claims to be nine inches tall. I find that highly improbable, since the world record for smallest man holds at about twenty inches or so. And he’s asking if I like _it raw_. I’m nor partial to having my food raw or cooked, although with meats like chicken raw is not preferable. I-”

Seungcheol confiscated the phone _very_ quickly. “Jihoon, has nobody ever explained to you what _Grindr_ is?”

“It’s an app that matches people on how aesthetically attractive they find each other, isn’t it?”

Seungcheol paused. “Jihoon, have you never had the talk?”

“…we have talked about many things.”

“I mean the one about sex.”

“Any information about sexual activity is readily available on the internet,” the boy answered, a confused expression painted on his little face.

Seungcheol sighed. “Okay… let’s keep the talk for some other day. But for now – this guy meant that his… well… _main genital organ…_ is nine inches long.”

The boy frowned cutely. “Why would I wish to know the size of his genitals?”

“To decide whether you want to… well… um…”

Realization dawned on the little droid. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Seungcheol’s hand mussed his hair. “Be careful, alright? Don’t get yourself hurt.”

Jihoon smiled a little. “You really care about me, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks.”

“Now. Time for bed?”

Jihoon took back his phone, nodding. “Okay. Good night, Seungcheol.”

“Come here, pipsqueak.” Seungcheol picked Jihoon up, hugging him tightly, laughing as he carried the surprisingly heavy boy to his room. “There!” he chuckled victoriously. “Lights out soon, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good night, Jihoonie.”

“Good night, Cassanova.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everybody!! ^-^ I hope you're all enjoying domestic Jicheol e u e This is just your friendly reminder that if you like my fic please recommend it, comment, kudos, all the things... and for occasional cute spoilers follow @peppermintglow on twitter ^-^


	10. A Frozen Arm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jihoon's date with Hoshi ends in sparks. Literally.

“Where are you going?”

“I have no idea.” Jihoon laced his shoes with delicate precision. “Soonyoung says it’s a surprise.”

Seungcheol scowled. “You’re going to meet him again?”

“Sure.”

“…we should talk about him.”

“We _are_ talking about him.”

“Jihoon.”

“Seungcheol.”

“Can you stop being so… _obnoxious_ for a moment? I’m serious. I’m worried about you.”

“Is Soonyoung dangerous, for you to be worried about me?”

“Yes!” Seungcheol leaned against the wall a moment, exasperated. “More than you know. He has a bad reputation for using people and getting rid of them when he’s had his fun.”

“Isn’t that normal?” Jihoon looked at him with an open expression. “When I’m tired of a book or an item, I set it down, too.”

“People aren’t _books_ , you’re not a _thing_ , Jihoon! We don’t act that way towards _people_ , that’s monstrous!”

“Then… why does he do it?”

“Because he’s a bad person!”

Jihoon sighed a little, bending over for the other shoe. “This conversation is getting us nowhere. I don’t understand.”

“I’m asking you not to date Hoshi.”

“I don’t understand why. Besides, I could say the same about your obvious dependence on Jeonghan’s doting, but I don’t. People have told me it’s rude to dictate such aspects of other people’s lives.”

Seungcheol had to work hard to unlock his jaw and halt the grinding of his molars. “Jihoon, I’m just – I’m worried about you. Hoshi doesn’t play nice when it comes to dating. Don’t be tricked by somebody like him.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be friends?”

“It’s because we’re friends I can say it.”

“Seungcheol, it’s just a date, it’s harmless. I promise I won’t get caught up in any overly dramatic scenarios where I’m left in the cold with his baby in my arms, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

In a surprise attack of adoration, Seungcheol put his arms around Jihoon lightly. “I’m just saying,” he sighed, “I want you to be safe. Don’t fall for Soonyoung.”

Jihoon patted him back awkwardly. “Will you let me go if I _promise_ not to fall in love with him today?”

“Mm.” Seungcheol didn’t move, cuddling him for a few moments. “Maybe.”

“Do you just want to keep me to yourself? That’s selfish.”

“So what if I do? You’re cute.”

Jihoon softened a little at that. “You really think I’m cute a lot, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“Cute’s not pretty.”

“Sometimes, being pretty isn’t that important.”

Jihoon patted his shoulder a moment. “Okay. I promise to be back before ten.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

“Yeah. There’s macaroni in the fridge, you just need to microwave the sauce, try not to put it on fire like last time. There’s also apple pie.”

“I can feed myself.”

“Sure you can, buddy.” Jihoon patted him on the shoulder a little more. “Text me if anything goes cataclysmically wrong.”

Seungcheol wasn’t able to come up with a good enough comeback before he had left. He simply stood in the hallway for a moment, wishing the young man would come back. Then he robotically turned around and went back to his desk.

It took him twenty minutes to decide to put on his coat and boots and go spy on his friends’ date.

 

Jihoon waved from across the road at the man waiting for him: he donned a glowing smile and crossed.

Jihoon would never make the mistake again.

The rails shuddered and shook, but he didn’t notice them; Soonyoung gave him a terrified, angry look, but he didn’t comprehend it; there was a loud rattling in his ears, but he took no notice until it was too late.

His reflexes turned away from the speeding tram as fast as possible: Jihoon’s body made if off the tracks before the enormous machine could take his life, his heart pounding heavily in his chest.

Jihoon’s jump had saved his life. But there were other parts of them that couldn’t be saved.

“ _Jihoon_!”

The tram passed, almost unaware of the damage done: on the other side of the road, Soonyoung stood horrified at what was happening.

Sparks flew from Jihoon’s body. He stared at Soonyoung, waiting.

And there it was: within seconds Soonyoung was gone. His face had warped to a sickening green and he fled the scene.

Jihoon dived for his right arm.

“ _…Jihoon._ ”

The boy whipped around, his freezing arm tucked under his armpit, wrapped in a hunk of snow. For a moment, he wondered what he was doing here.

The shock on Seungcheol’s face was immeasurable.

“Can you drive?”

“…what?”

“Seungcheol! Can! You! Drive?!”

“Y-yes!” Seungcheol lunged forward, almost like a drunkard, staring at where blood and metal was falling out of Jihoon’s arm. “I can drive you to hospital!”

“Don’t bother.” Jihoon began to pull his coat off as he ran for Seungcheol’s abandoned car on the side of the road. “Take me to Twenty-fourth and Downway.”

“What?”

“ _Now_.” Jihoon grunted, working hard to keep as much snow as possible packed around his disembodied limb.

Seungcheol dumbly got in the car.

“It’s around the corner.” Jihoon grunted as he used his teeth to grip his coat around his elbow, staunching the flow of blood that was dripping out the door. He barely managed to close the door before they were flying through the streets.

With a final tug on his tourniquet, Jihoon’s arm fell to the floor of the car, a chunk of metal falling out of it.

“Shit.”

“What the fuck _is_ that, Jihoon?! What the fuck is it?!”

“It’s me, okay?”

“What?”

“ _Right!_ ”

Seungcheol swerved on the icy road for a moment before coming to the grey block of apartments. “You need to tell me-”

“If I survive this, I _promise_ , I will.” Jihoon bounced out of the car before the engine had cut, delving his extra arm into a snowdrift. “Freeze,” he whispered, gathering it up in a new blanket of snow. “Just stay cold, stay cold, stay cold.” With his nose, Jihoon hit the button on the intercom as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

“... _hello_?”

“It’s me. It’s an emergency.”

The door buzzed open, and Jihoon almost made it all the way to the lobby.

 

Seungcheol dragged the boy and his disembodied arm in and out of the elevator to where a young boy stood in the freezing cold in his pyjamas, waiting.

“Oh, _fuck!_ ”

“Help me,” was all the novelist could manage.

Chan took up Jihoon’s feet and the two of them shuffled the body into the house: he was instantly brought to a room covered in plastic and placed on the ground. Chan took the snowy arm away from the unconscious boy. “What happened?”

“He got hit by a tram.”

“Put this in the freezer.”

“Excuse me?”

“The freezer! Take a left here, it’s in the kitchen.” Chan glared at him. “Quickly! If his arm thaws to above minus 6 degrees, he will _never_ use it again!”

Seungcheol simply legged it, doing as he was told, as his mind reeled to keep up.

“Jesus, Jihoon, what have you done?” Chan was leaning over the boy, a magnifier strapped to his head he was peering through, gently running a scalpel over the edge of his wound to lift the skin. “It’s smattered…”

“Can you save him?” Seungcheol breathed hard, his entire body twitching in time with his racing heart.

“I can give it a try. Open the metal cupboard.” Seungcheol ran to do as instructed. “On the fourth shelf up, there is a small metal briefcase. Inside there are three sets of vials. Bring me a blue one and a green one.”

He hurried back with the items: before he could stop him, the pubescent boy was loading them into a syringe.

“What are you doing?!”

“Shush.” He pressed one needle into Jihoon’s throat, injecting clear liquid into him from the green vial: then, working extra-fast, jammed the liquid of the blue vial into his neck. There were a few moments of silence.

“What-”

“Sh.” The boy held up a single finger. “Just a second. See if it takes.”

Jihoon’s head swished to and fro for a moment, scowling, before he went limp.

“Thank God.” He crossed himself. “Can you get me the tourniquet? It’s in the metal cupboard.” He seemed a little more relaxed now, knotting a tourniquet around Jihoon’s shoulder before removing the makeshift one around his arm. He ran a scalpel up the boy’s arm and pulled back the flesh with ease.

Seungcheol stared in bare-faced horror as wires, clicking metal and tiny lights blinking in clear casing were revealed, instead of bone.

“My God,”  he whispered. “…what _are_ you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I back? I don't know. Am I still any good at writing? Also don't know. Am I a bitch for leaving? Yeah, sorta. Do I hope you enjoy this? Yeeeeeeeees


	11. Chan, the Genius to the rescue

“This is all I can do for now.” Chan lifted the magnifier away from his face after checking the frozen arm. “I need to make another connector for the two parts, ‘cause his has fallen out. It’s probably obliterated, anyway. It’ll take me hours to do. It’s probably best. The nanobots need time to re-construct what I’ve fixed in him so far.”

“How is he-”

“I injected him with some CP4705, he’ll be fine. He’ll sleep through it like a baby. Actually, he’ll sleep for hours. Hopefully that’s enough for me to work, but God, I need a cigarette. You smoke?”

Seungcheol nodded once and the two moved out to the balcony for a smoke.

“So, you’re the guy he’s staying with? Soohyuk, right?”

Seungcheol was too dazed to correct him. “Yeah.”

“You okay? You saw him get hit by a tram. You gotta be traumatized, after that.”

“I not- I’m, it’s mo-… it… ih…” Seungcheol struggled with his words for a moment.

Chan almost dropped his cigarette. “…you didn’t _know_ he was an android?!”

“ _Android_.” The word left Seungcheol’s mouth in a forbidden, ghastly whisper.

“…you better sit down before you fall down.” Chan nudged a plastic chair on the balcony with his foot, allowing Seungcheol to sit down. “Sorry, I didn’t know he hadn’t told you. He’s been living with you for a while, so I thought if he trusted you that much, he would have told you.”

“Ah-ah-an-androi-an-?”

Chan closed his eyes, inhaling the smoke from his cigarette for a moment. “Years ago, Lee Jihoon was created in a laboratory. Egg taken from a deceased donor, DNA taken from the Doctor. He was a visionary. Nobody understood him. He worked in secrecy, in privacy, in his lab. There were fifteen trials before Jihoon. The embryos weren’t viable. Didn’t stay past two days. When Jihoon hit the one week mark, the Doctor… he knew it was now or never. He’d had me working on the implants for years already. Oh… the Doc, he uh, he realized my potential. I’m one of the world’s foremost hardware and software geniuses.”

Seungcheol stared in disbelief.

“The Doc’s real child, you see… uhm, was born with a congenital heart defect. Didn’t make it. He didn’t even get to hold her before she died. So the doc had this chance to uh, enhance a human. Make sure that from conception, it wouldn’t have any physical defects. Be stronger, faster, smarter. Remember more. Work harder. Be near indestructible.

“Everything went little by little as he developed. Just before his skull began to mineralize, the Doc implanted chips against the inside of it to work his brain around all the other mechanical features. Jihoon’s physical body was hard-wired to work in conjunction with metal and machine to strengthen him. He’s the world’s most amazing super computer. There isn’t a machine on earth that could work anywhere near like what the human brain can do. So the Doctor just… harnessed the brain, I guess. Jihoon can do anything. Think as fast, run as fast, as anything. Internal GPS system, gyroscope, he’s got USB-plugs and everything. He’s got processors running hot in between his nerves, down his spinal column. Of course… some concessions had to be made. The Doctor wanted him to be indestructible, but when we tried adding the plating, it went haywire. Almost killed him. That’s why his arm broke off. If we had been able to add the plating, the tram would have been wrecked, not him.

“In hindsight, I guess we should have made more concessions. Jihoon runs on battery. He can enjoy human food, and he’ll digest it and shit it out the other end just like you or me: he’ll absorb the necessary nutrients from his food, but it won’t be enough to keep him alive. Because of his biomechanical engineering, he needs to charge his battery to keep his metal running. If his processor stops… that’s it, game over. His life fizzles out like a bad birthday candle.

“Don’t get me wrong. Every single piece of him was delicately created by me. Whatever is in his body, I made it, I can fix it. I just prefer not to, ‘cause… well, messing around with the truly _biological_ parts of him, the human parts, that was the Doctor’s job. I don’t know anything about the human body. Luckily, the Doc had me create an army of nanobots and injected them into him. They’ll scrub his human components. They’ll support his natural defence systems against bacteria and the like, they’ll help heal wounds, all that jazz. They self-replicate too, so I shouldn’t have to make any more, but we won’t know until I get him back in working order.”

“Hold on! Hold-on-hold-on-hold-on!” Seungcheol held up both hands. “You could only have been like what, three years old when Jihoon was born?”

“Do you _really_ think we could implant metal into an embryo and just let it be after it grew to nine months? Of course not. The Doctor modified him to stay growing at the rate of the embryo while in the test tube. Jihoon was grown to full maturity in a matter of months. When he had been in the lab for sixteen months the Doctor delivered him and told him he was sixteen years old. That was three years ago.”

“…where _is_ this Doctor?”

Chan flicked his cigarette against the cold steel balcony rail. “The Doctor forgot about the human _presence_. He was so focused on the body and the hardware that he forgot it was a living, breathing human being. He didn’t know it, but Jihoon had been conscious in the lab for months. Waiting, wondering. Jihoon had developed a personality: a little robotic due to limited exposure, but a personality nonetheless. Doc fell in love with him like he was his son. Which he was. But the Doc… you know, this kind of experimentation… it does things to people. The Doc was so overprotective of Jihoon. To the point where he dismissed me, his partner, from the lab, because he didn’t want me to meet him so much. The Doc just kept him inside.

“He wasn’t wrong. There were a whole bunch of nasty men who had an idea what the Doc was trying to do. When they found out he had succeeded, and was keeping the android to himself… well, things didn’t go so well. Five months ago the Doctor was found in his apartment, his head severed from his body. And his son, his most prized experiment had fled of its own accord.”

Seungcheol rubbed a palm over his face.

“I need to get in there and make that connector. You wanna stay out here and freeze to death, or…?”

Seungcheol followed him back inside. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Not really. Or, actually…” Chan gave him a guilty look. “There’s money on the kitchen counter. I was gonna order in. My kitchen’s empty.”

“Got it.”

 

Eight painstaking, exhausting hours later, Chan forced his chair away from his work station, wiping his forehead. “I need a break.”

“Oh?”

“I’m going to go check on Jihoon.”

“You said he’d be asleep.” Despite his genuine exhaustion, Seungcheol jumped up at the chance to unlock the room Jihoon was in.

“He should be. That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Then?”

Chan opened the door and checked Jihoon’s vitals for a moment before sighing. “You know, at week forty-five, I _told_ the Doc to put in a visual screen for outside monitoring. He wouldn’t have any of it. The outside world wasn’t allowed to see what mastery lay inside. His precious android was to be void of physical flaws. Well. He got what he wanted. I guess.”

“Why do you need a screen?”

“To check his vitals. Heart rate, battery life, processor temperature, nanobot numbers. I can’t tell how he’s doing until I wake him up, and I don’t dare wake him up like this.”

“He’s not bleeding out.”

“No, the nanobots are programmed to create a wall in case of major limb rupture. I’m glad you came to me immediately.”

“He told me to.”

“He really is an excellent piece of work.” Chan cricked his neck and looked at the boy worriedly. “I need to fix that extra piece quickly. I can’t have a lot of hours left. What time is it?”

Seungcheol checked his watch. “Four in the morning.”

“Fuck.” Chan scraped the hair off his forehead a moment. “I’m on a clock here. Can you take a nap? It’s awkward if I feel like you’re staring.”

Seungcheol placed himself back on Chan’s sofa. “I don’t know if I can sleep,” he admitted softly, “but I can pretend.”

“Thanks.”

 

“Soohyuk. Soohyuk, wake up. Wake up.”

“My name’s no-”

“I know it’s not. Jihoon would never be stupid enough to tell me your real name. And I don’t wanna know! So don’t tell me! The less I know about you the better for all of us. Get up.”

“What time is it?”

“Six, and I’m running short on time. I need help.”

“Yeah?”

“I finished the piece but I need to add it to him before we take out the arm. Can you stand in the kitchen and wait for my signal? When I tell you to, I need you to bring out his arm.”

Seungcheol shuddered at the idea of pulling an arm out of a freezer. Even if it was only half-human. In fact, that may just have made it worse. “Kay.”

“Quickly.”

Seungcheol stood by the freezer, wringing the sleep out of his eyes, waiting further instruction.

“Now! I need the arm now!”

Seungcheol ripped the freezer open, pulled out the arm and ran.

“Come on, come on.” Chan was sweating droplets despite the frigid temperature in his apartment, his hands messy with droplets of blood. “Yes. Move. Turn. Shit. Yes. Come on. Take before his processor starts. Take before his processor starts. Take. Take. Damn it, take!” Chan fiddled with the arm, working the intricate, complex metal. “Don’t let that processor start. Don’t let it start. Don’t. Please, God, don’t let it start.”

There was a moment of silence.

A click.

A whirr.

“Seungcheol, in the metal cupboard there’s a white bucket.”

The man hopped to.

Chan pulled out a frighteningly large syringe from a kit, opened the bucket, and extracted the white liquid.

“Biomechanical ectoplasm. It should help his nanobots repair the cells broken by the cryogenics. Come on, come on!”

There was a moment of silence as the android was injected via each finger.

“Damn it, Jihoon, I haven’t done all this for shits and giggles you know!” Chan had to stop himself, breathing hard for a moment. “Come on, buddy, don’t leave me like this. The Doctor would be broken if you left like this. You can’t let a mere tram take you, buddy.”

There were a few minutes of near-silent purring of a processor whirring to life. Chan gently pressed his fingertips to Jihoon’s frozen hand.

“It’s starting to warm up,” he mumbled emotionlessly.

“… _issss_ … that good?”

“Should be.”

It was that moment that Jihoon opened his eyes.

“Jihoon! Bud-”

“Three percent. Shutting down device.”

“Shit motherfucking damn it.” The trail of profanities the young computer genius spewed were beyond vile as he worked: Jihoon’s eyes closed as his body was swung around. It took a few moments of hard work but then the outlet was ripped off the wall and Jihoon’s wires were being tied in. “Come on, come on, come on, come on-”

There was a very soft beep sound. It went off twice.

“Don’t you fucking _dare_ give me the double beep!” Chan screamed, punching his fist into the floor. “Don’t you shut down! Jihoon! Lee Jihoon! Don’t you fucking shut down! Don’t you dare! Jihoon! Jihoon!”

A moment of silence passed.


	12. Listen, I'm not good at chapter titles. Can we all just pretend I titled this something witty and hilarious and be done with it?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Android wakes up.

Jihoon’s eyes opened again.

“Two percent and charging.”

That was the moment Chan’s body slumped in the corner of the room and gave out a tearless sob that threw his chest forth and back. “Okay,” he whispered hauntingly. “He’s going to be okay.”

Seungcheol broke down, his knees hitting the floor as he crumpled on top of them. “He… he is?”

“…yeah. He’s gonna be okay.”

Seungcheol didn’t bother fighting his tears for long: he simply laid down beside the tiny android, gripping him in his arms, and cried himself to sleep.

 

“…thank you.”

“I can’t believe you got hit by a _tram_.”

“I know. Thank you.”

“Well, at least you had the good sense to freeze your arm immediately. If it had stayed warm…”

“Yeah, I know. Thank you.”

“Stop thanking me so much.”

“Jihoon? Jihoonie?” Seungcheol appeared in the doorway, freshly awoken. He brushed his eyes and simply stood there, in shock.

The little boy was right as rain. He didn’t look strange. Although the sleeve of his shirt had been pulled off, his entire arm was in perfect working condition, holding up a cup of coffee. It didn’t even look wrong, except for a white, bright scar just under the elbow.

The sight sent such relief through Seungcheol he leaned against the doorframe.

Jihoon glanced down at the floor guiltily. “Thank you,” he mumbled softly, “for saving me.”

“You want something to eat, SooBoy?”

“Uh, no thanks.” Seungcheol waved a palm at Chan, who decided to vacate the kitchen quickly. “Um, my pleasure, Jihoon.”

The android bit his human lip, turning away a little, obviously laden with guilt.

“How are you feeling?”

“Much be-… better.” He flinched a little when Seungcheol sat down beside him, keeping his eyes firmly fixed downwards.

“Yeah? That’s good. Then… are you ready to come home?”

“Come _home_?!” He looked up in shock. “With you?”

“Yes with me. That’s where you live, right?”

Jihoon stared at him, unable to understand. “Why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

“Aren’t you angry with me?”

“Angry? I’m furious. You went out to Hoshi against what I asked, you didn’t look both ways when you crossed the street and I even had to watch you get rammed into by a _tram_. I had to carry you to an unknown person and put your arm in a freezer. I’m so furious you wouldn’t believe it. But I’m also exhausted and emotionally drained. I just… want to see you back home again.”

“But – what about me lying to you? What about me not telling you I’m a robot?”

“You’re not a robot though… right? Chan called you an android. And the way I see it, you’re a human with robot parts. That doesn’t make you all-robot. Does it?”

The boy’s jaw dropped a little.

“I get it. It’s a scary world out there and you’ve had a really tough life. The fact that you couldn’t tell me before this… I understand. To be honest, I’m… still in shock. I guess. But I still want you to come back home with me. You’re still the Jihoon I’ve known the past five months, right?”

He nodded.

“Then come back home with me. We’ll sort all this out in time.” Within seconds, Seungcheol had thrown himself over the boy, holding him in his arms. “I was so scared,” he whispered gently. “I was so scared you weren’t going to make it, Jihoon. Don’t get hurt again. Don’t scare me again. Stay alive, Jihoon. Stay alive and well. Okay?”

Slowly, Jihoon’s little arms encased him, too. “Okay. I’m sorry for worrying you. I’ll do better.”

Seungcheol cuddled him tightly. “Do you know how relieved I was? When Chan said you were going to be alright?”

“I know. He told me. You cried.”

Seungcheol chuckled a little, but without mirth. “Yeah. I cried. That’s how much you scared me.”

“I’m sorry.” The boy snuggled into Seungcheol’s shoulder happily. “Thank you for caring so much.”

“Jihoonie, will you come home with me?”

“M-hm. I want to come home.”

 

“Can I call you? You know, if something happens. God forbid, but if it did, I wouldn’t know what to do.”

“I’ll write you a manual,” Jihoon mumbled.

“You’re not a robot, there will be no manuals here.” Chan folded his arms as the boy struggled into a fresh shirt brought back from his apartment and a brand new coat. “And yes, call me. Jihoon has my number.”

Seungcheol put a happy arm around his roommate. “Thank you, again. So much.”

“My pleasure. Besides, Jihoon’s paying me a fortune.”

“He is?”

“The Doc was a rich man.”

Jihoon went bright red and turned away. “Uh, can we go now? I’m cold.”

Seungcheol grinned, patted Chan on the shoulder once and turned with him. “Maybe we should go for ice-cream on our way home.”

“ _Nooooooo!_ ”

The two left, smiling brightly at each other.

 

“So is there anything important that I need to know?”

“Well.” The boy blushed, hesitating a moment. “Your electricity bill might be a little high.”

He paused. “Right. Do you have to charge via the outlet, or is there another way?”

Jihoon paused for a moment. “I used to have lithium batteries that were solar-charged and self-sustaining. When my Father died, I just… dropped everything and ran away. I didn’t take them with me.”

Seungcheol thought about it. “Well, why don’t we just go get them then? Will they still be where you left them?”

“You can’t!” Jihoon almost leapt over the diner table in indignance, face frozen in an expression of fear and shock. “You absolutely definitely can’t!”

Seungcheol blinked for a moment, both hands up. “Alright, okay. Don’t worry. Sit down.”

“You absolutely can’t go there! You really can’t, Cheol!” His face began to go bright red as he fidgeted nervously. “It’ll be big trouble if you go.”

“Jihoon, I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. Sit down and take some deep breaths.”

The boy plonked back down like a toy, staring bleakly at the table. It took him a few seconds to exhale and relax a little more against the seat. “Okay. Okay.”

Seungcheol jumped when the circle in his hand buzzed; he left, and when he came back with two steaming pizzas, Jihoon had settled a bit more. The boy dove on his chicken pizza with relish before his partner even had a chance to sit.

“Hungry?”

“Famished.”

“…I get that.” He ate a slice of his own pizza thoughtfully before returning to the conversation. “Any _particular_ reason you don’t want to go get those batteries? I can imagine they’d be a lot handier for you than having to go home and plug into the wall.”

Jihoon picked a green pepper off his slice before answering. “… _they_ will be monitoring it.”

Seungcheol winced, about to ask more, before he noticed how Jihoon was sitting. Hunched over, scoffing his food, voice low, eyes darting to and fro. Jihoon had gone to a stranger’s house without a problem, lived in his house with ease, had his arm ripped off by walking out in front of a tram and barely blinked. But this? This made him _scared_. Talking about it _frightened_ him.

“…let’s talk about this some other time,” he offered, sliding Jihoon’s coke his way. “If you eat that quickly, you’re going to get hiccups.”

Jihoon stared at him for a moment. “Thanks.”

He nodded. “Sure.”


	13. He Doesn't Like Robot Jokes

“…I feel somewhat like a doll.”

“Hmm.”

“Did you sleep well?”

“M-hm.”

“Do you want breakfast?”

“M-mm.”

“Then just a glass of juice? Or a cup of coffee?”

“ _Mmmmmmm._ ”

“Seungcheol.”

“Mm?”

He struggled, oh how he struggled, but no matter what, the small android couldn’t escape his landlord’s grasp. “Seungcheol,” he sighed, “I can’t move if you’ve got me trapped on your lap like this.”

Seungcheol’s signature _mm_ was all he could get out of him: the man had stuck his face into the crook of Jihoon’s neck, grasped his arms around his chest, and would not let him go at all. He simply sat with him in a chair as he slowly woke up.

“Seu-heung-cheo-heol!” Jihoon flailed, both arms and legs straightening out in an attempt to escape. He barely budged. “…don’t make me google how to incapacitate you.”

“Five more minutes.” Seungcheol’s arms shifted a moment to pull Jihoon closer. “I just want five more minutes like this with you here.”

Jihoon sighed, but relented, relaxing in his lap. “You okay?”

Seungcheol nodded. “And I slept well, thank you. I just… want to hug you for a bit.”

“Oh.” It took him a moment. “Why?”

“Because I was worried about you. I was scared for your life. And the fact that you’re home again and you’re fine, it makes me really happy. But it’s hard to sort through the emotions. It almost feels like it’s not real. So I need to hug you for a bit to remind myself you’re really okay.”

“Oh.” Slowly, the android blushed. “Sorry for worrying you so much.”

“Mm, pretty Jihoonie.”

That made him stop entirely, pausing for a moment, dangling off his friend’s lap. “…am I pretty?”

“Um.” Seungcheol straightened slightly, not letting go. “I don’t know. I guess so? Sorry, I forgot how obsessed you are with pretty.”

It took him a moment. “I don’t mind being pretty.”

“I think you’re more cute than pretty.”

Jihoon’s shoulders sagged slightly. “I’m not pretty?”

“No, no, you’re pretty.” Seungcheol cuddled him close again. “Very pretty. And cute. And safe, and you’re safe and that’s the most important part. Our little pretty Jihoonie. Thank you for being safe.”

Slowly but surely, Jihoon turned slightly in his captor’s embrace and put his arms around the man’s neck, clutching himself close. He leaned his temple on Seungcheol’s shoulder and sat there, stroking the hair at the back of his neck gently.

It shocked Seungcheol into silence, but it made him smile a little. “So affectionate? It’s not like you.”

Jihoon opened his mouth, but couldn’t bring the words out at first, choking on air a little. “…you sounded like Father,” he eventually said in a small voice. “Whenever he came home, he would tell me… _thank you for being safe_ like that, in that same voice. I-… I… don’t like it. And I do like it. And I don’t like it. And I do.”

Seungcheol’s arms stiffened a moment. “…confusing, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “I like it. I like being safe. I like it when other people are happy that I’m safe. But… but…”

“It hurts to remember him, does it?”

The android shook his little head just a bit, scowling at the intensity of his emotions and the struggle he was having to relay them in verbal form. “Sometimes it’s really nice. But… in that voice… that voice full of relief, is… it’s _so_ calming, and it’s _so_ disturbing, I… I can’t…”

“Shhhhh.” Seungcheol began to rock him to and fro gently, rubbing his back. “It’s alright, it’s alright. Pretty Jihoonie. It’s alright. I’m sorry.”

“This is so frustrating.”

“I know. I know. Shhh now.”

They sat like that for almost an hour, clutching each other, both of them calming down from the emotions that had taken over throughout the weekend, until eventually Jihoon made an attempt to free himself from the clutches of his landlord. “Are you hungry?”

“Coffee sounds good, to start with.”

A moment passed.

“You will have to let me go, you know.”

“…but you’re so warm… and _cuddly._ ”

“Choi Seungcheol!”

“Yes?”

Jihoon sighed and suddenly relaxed, going so far as to cross his legs. “Did you know? I’m an android.”

“I know that.”

“Being an android, I have a vast amount of knowledge not only that you _wouldn’t_ know, but that could also potentially be very harmful. For instance, I know about 46 ways I could kill you with a safety pin. Two of which would kill you within the hour.”

Seungcheol thought about it, and let the android go.

“You would never hurt me, right?”

“Never ever.” Jihoon smirked to himself on the way to brew a new pot of coffee. “But a good threat rarely goes to waste.”

“…can I use that?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I use that in a book? What you just said?”

“Sure. Two sugars, right?”

“Please.”

 

* * *

 

“Seungcheol, I want to talk to you.”

“Oh?”

“Do you have time? If you don’t, it can wait.”

“Hold on, let me finish this paragraph. He’s professing his undying love and he’s about to get rejected so hard his grandchildren will feel it. It’s going to be _wonderful_.” Seungcheol had a glint in his eyes as he typed furiously, the reflection on his reading glasses every-flashing as he continued with his twisted novel. It took him five minutes and then he was satisfied, giving his signature sigh as he slumped back in his chair. “Ah, it’s beautiful.”

“What is it even _about_ , anyway?” Jihoon obnoxiously munched down on a cheetoh as he scrambled to sit beside Seungcheol’s old computer.

“Oh, it’s great. It’s a Joseon-era romance between a king and his bodyguard. It’s got supernatural creatures and ventures in the night and political intrigue and it’s _wonderful._ ”

“But you just said somebody was getting rejected.”

“Flat-ass rejected. Great, isn’t it?”

“I thought the point of a good romance was for them to have a love to last through the ages.”

“Oh, he’ll accept soon, don’t worry. They’ll be perfect together, forever.”

“I see.” The android squinted a little, but seemed satisfied.

“You wanted to speak to me?”

“Yeah. Need a drink?”

“Thanks, I’ll grab it.” He got up to refill his cup. “Start talking, C3P0.”

It was inhuman: more than a mechanic arm, it unsettled Seungcheol to his bones, and for the first time, instilled a fear of Jihoon in his heart. The boy moved across the room faster than humanly possible – more so, faster than the human eye could properly track. Within a fraction of a second Jihoon was in front of him, gripping him by the collar of his shirt, a dangerous look in his eye.

 _“ **Never**_ call me that again. _Ever._ ”

After a moment of silence, Seungcheol nodded his head, pale-faced and shocked. He couldn’t even speak.

And then Jihoon was where he had first sat, as if nothing had happened, with his hands around a cup of tea. He looked away, as if he hadn’t just zipped to and fro like a machine.

It took him a moment to shrug off the eerie feeling that Jihoon may not entirely be _human_ , and got his drink.

“What’s up, buddy?”

Jihoon opened his mouth, but hesitated for a moment. “I want to tell you – about why we can’t get those batteries.”

“Oh.” Seungcheol took his seat. “Yes?”

“When… Father died… it was… scary. I – they were going to come for me next. It’s those same people I warned you about at first. The ones who are looking for me. They’re _really_ looking for me. They want to use me. Dissect me. Disassemble me. Rip me into pieces and see how I work. Use me to make others. I’m their blueprint. I don’t want that. I don’t like that. I don’t want them to find me. Ever. When Father was… _killed_ … I just ran.” Jihoon pulled his legs up to his chest and crossed his arms around them, staring at the floor.

“Oh, Jihoon, I-”

“I did go back. A few hours later. I – I left because I can run _really_ fast. So I just ran back. By that time… they were hauling Father’s dead body away. There was blood everywhere. They were hiding his body so nobody would find out. They were combing out the house. I don’t know if they found the laboratory, but there were plenty of other things around. They were gathering them in one big pile. That was when I realized I wasn’t going to be able to go home.”

“Was that… the day I found you?”

Slowly, Jihoon nodded. “I had just… left. I kept wandering until my battery began to run out. I had my GPS on, but I could only get a static map of the city – if I connected to the satellites, it would have been easier to find me. I wasn’t sure where I was on the map anymore, so I just stopped. Eventually I had to shut off my GPS, too. To preserve battery.”

Seungcheol stared at his cup, mouthing the word _GPS_ to himself a couple of times before realizing. “Then, that first night… your battery was low?”

Jihoon nodded. “Really low. Another hour or two, and I would have been dead. You saved my life.”

“Oh, Jihoonie.” He couldn’t help himself: Seungcheol moved to sit beside his lodger and cuddle him warmly. “I’m glad. I’m so glad I found you on time. I’m so glad you’re alive. I’m so glad.”

Slowly, Jihoon settled in his arms. “Thank you. But, do you understand now? We can’t go back there. They’ll find me and take me.”

Seungcheol thought about it. “It’s been two and a half months. Surely they would know – understand – that you’re smart enough to never go back there?”

“Of course. They’re good at predicting people’s moves.”

“Then… shouldn’t we try to do the unexpected?”

Jihoon froze.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I’m just reminding you that it’s an option if you want it. I don’t think they’ll be there. And I’ll go with you. And we can hide and watch the house for a while before-hand if you’re scared somebody will be there. You know I’m here for you, right?”

“Why _are_ you this nice to me, anyway?”

“…because you’re _Jihoonie_.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” But it didn’t matter, and sense didn’t really matter either: because Seungcheol was warm and safe, as he had been on the first night they met, and he always would be.

He shifted. “I guess all this means you never had cancer.”

“Nope, sorry. I can’t have cancer. I’m immune to most human diseases, actually.”

Seungcheol raised a brow and grinned. “Cool.”

 

* * *

 

It was five days later that Jihoon tip-toed into the living room, already wearing his jacket, and holding his bag. “Seungcheol?”

He didn’t look up from his newspaper. “Hmm?”

“You said today was going to be your day off, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“…I thought about what you said. I’d like to try it. If it’s okay with you.”

“Try what?”

“Seungcheol.”

The man finally looked up at the android.

He wore a brave face, but fidgeting fingers gave away the anxiety he really felt. The stubborn set of his chin, however, was not to be argued with. “I want to try and go home for my batteries.”


	14. 60502

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jihoon returns to his home. 60502 is still there, and that is a surprise.

“This was a bad idea and I want to go home.”

Seungcheol had to smile to himself. “We are going to be fine. We’re going to take a look at it, and if you think it’s too risky, we’ll go home, but we’re not going back until we’ve seen it. Alright?”

Jihoon fidgeted a moment. “You _promise_ we’ll go home _right_ the moment I want to?”

“I promise. The moment you want to leave, we’ll go.”

Jihoon bit his lip and looked away, out the passenger window. “I’m scared,” he mumbled in a low voice.

Seungcheol slowed for a red light. “…I know.”

“…take the next right.”

 

* * *

 

Seungcheol cut the engine on the curb of a quiet street outside the city. It was very calm – the faint smell of animals in the air, sheep he reckoned, and with the snow melting, the green-brown grass of near-by fields was beginning to peek through.

“It’s behind the tree line.” Jihoon gripped his bag a little tighter, staring at the line of trees on a perpendicular road. “There’s a small house.”

He let Jihoon sit for a moment. “Then, are you ready?”

The android nodded and stepped out of the car.

 

* * *

 

“…yeah, okay, fine. It _does_ look deserted.” Jihoon let out a small sigh of relief, eyes closing for just a moment. “But let’s not be too obvious. Let’s just… go in, and out, very quickly.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

The two crossed the road and Jihoon pushed in the open door: there was a narrow hallway which led into a living room on the left.

Rats and various bugs had long made their home in the abandoned building, but just as Jihoon described, in the middle of the floor was a small pile of technology; a computer, some laptops, external hard drives and things Seungcheol wouldn’t have known if they had bit him in the backside.

Jihoon stopped him from getting closer for a moment before he pointed at the ring on the floor. “That runs,” he simply said, pointing at a wire on the wall. When Seungcheol’s eyes followed it, he found a black web on the ceiling.

“…what is that?”

“It’s a taser-net.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning you’re likely to die if it hits you.”

He thought about that. “Oh.”

“Don’t touch anything. Take whatever is in the kitchen, if you want. Shouldn’t waste food if it’s still in-date. Then meet me downstairs.” Jihoon began to move to the kitchen with ease.

“…down _stairs_?” Seungcheol scowled a little, following his friend. “There’s a downstairs?”

Jihoon opened up a cupboard in the kitchen, and began to pull out the glasses kept there. “Yes, there’s a downstairs.” After a few minutes of poking the back of the wood he dislodged a section, pulling out what looked like a small button. When he pressed it, a spiralled key flipped out from it.

Seungcheol had to ask. “… a key? An old-fashioned key?”

Jihoon smiled at the item, almost nostalgic. “Father always said they were a good way to hide things.” He then stepped forward, opened the refrigerator, ducked into it and came out choking, eyes watering. “Shit!”

“Jihoon?”

“Something smells _really_ bad in there,” he gagged, making a series of faces. “Don’t open it again.”

“Sure…”

When Jihoon inserted the diminutive key into the side of the fridge and twisted it, a solid thunk echoed through the empty kitchen. He quickly removed the key and closed the fridge, encapsulating the nauseating smell emanating from its contents. Seungcheol watched, astonished, as Jihoon pulled sideboard away from the plinth of the kitchen, revealing a small black patch. The boy pressed his thumb against it, and lo and behold, two of the flagstone tiles shifted across each other as if they were stacked cards, illuminating a staircase.

“…wow.”

“Yeah.” Jihoon hopped towards it. “Tinned food’s in one of the cupboards. Help yourself. Here’s the bag. Join me when you’re done.”

He descended into the darkness, his footsteps on pressure plates illuminating the bunker little by little. _Panis Angelicus_ began to play in a clear soprano voice, as per automation. The tune caused a sharp intake of breath for the android, making his little fists shake, memories flooding his mind. It took him a moment to be able to confidently step through, beginning to scour through workbenches laden with metals and plastics with his eyes.

It wasn’t long until Seungcheol joined him. “Wow,” was all he could say.

“I know. Feel free to take a look around.”

Seungcheol slid between the workbenches of the vast bunker, fingers darting over labels and boxes everywhere until he found a large sack in what seemed to be a trough. It was labelled with a metal plaque. “Hey, Jihoon? What is _60501_?”

Jihoon flinched, but moved to stand by Seungcheol’s side. He looked at the open sack with a  little disdain. “60501 is me.”

“What?”

“It’s me. It’s the number father gave me before I was… _born_.” His lips twisted around the word with some chagrin. “The sack is biomechanical and sustained my life until I was a finished product.”

Seungcheol crinkled his nose in dislike at the idea. “Then… what is this? 60502…”

Both men turned to a trough behind a closed-off curtain. Jihoon flung the curtain open.

“60502 is my brother.”

There, right there in the trough, sat another sack – closed off, unopened. It was a thick skin, almost like dough in its colour, covered in tiny red and black wires. A perfect bulb, lying in the trough. On the plaque the number _60502_ was engraved.

Seungcheol struggled not to choke on his words, and failed significantly for a moment. “Your _brother_?!”

“After he grew me to the size of a large child and determined I could sustain myself outside of the… _test tube_ … he began to create a second. My brother. My brother would be even better than me, software flaws straightened out, better battery, his own satellite, all of that.” Jihoon sat on the plaque for a moment, and pressed his hand on the sack gently. “I never had a chance to meet him. It wasn’t long after I was born that they killed Father. 60502 never had a fighting chance. I forgot about him… when I ran. Anyway, he wasn’t complete. Father didn’t tell me what, but there was a software problem with 02. He was trying to fix it when… well, without somebody here to regulate the main power generator, he died long ago.”

Seungcheol sat on the _01_ trough opposite his friend. “Are you sad?”

“…yeah, a little.”

 _Panis Angelicus_ repeated, the sad violin intro starting again.

“I was supposed to have a brother. A playmate. Somebody who was exactly like me. Somebody I could talk to. And yet… when I first found out about him, I was jealous. Father seemed to be more excited for him, excited about what he would be and what he could do. I was upset a few times actually. And now… I’ll never know what my brother was like.”

There was silence for a moment, and then something _moved_. The two men stared, and stared some more, until a dark shadow turned, and from inside the biomechanical sack, pressed its hand against Jihoon’s.

“…oh my God.”

Within seconds, at the other end of the trough, there was also a head: it was hard to make out, being only a dark shadow inside a luminescent, sack, but it was definitely a head. It made no sound, it simply writhed inside its constraints as the hand pressed against Jihoon’s, more and more, again and again.

“Oh my God!” Jihoon stood up instantly, and almost just as quickly sat down again, pressing his hand against the sack again. “02? 02 can you hear me? My brother!”

More writhing, the sides of the sack bulging to accommodate for the human body inside it.

Jihoon sprang up and began to follow cables into a dark corner, until he was out of sight and Seungcheol was left gagging at the nauseating sight of the human stretching the biomechanical sack, half-transparent and rubbery.

“The generator,” Jihoon huffed, returning almost as quickly as he went, “it’s still working, but I don’t know for how long. My brother. My brother is still alive in there. It’s okay, little brother, it’s okay.” Jihoon sat on his knees, pressing his hand against the sack again. “It’s okay, big brother is here. I’m here now. I’m here now, little brother.”

The creature seemed to still considerably, hand pushing against Jihoon’s.

The android looked up at his friend, his eyes narrowing at the open door. “Seungcheol? Can you close the door? Red button on the right side of the stairs. I don’t want anybody peeking in.”

“Sure.” Seungcheol hit the red button. The door behind him began to close. When it did, the lights damped to a full black and the music was interrupted by silence. A static entered the air, followed by a cackle.

“Haw, shit.”

“You are trapped,” a recorded voice spat out as emergency lighting lit the room to a dark sepia tone. “And we have been alerted. We’re coming for you.”

“Shit, shit, shit.” Jihoon’s eyes darted around the laboratory furiously. “We’ve got to go. Now.”

“Your brother!”

Jihoon turned back as quickly as he could, pressing the curtain back to its original place. “They didn’t find him the first time, they won’t get him the second. We’ve got to go. Now! Now, Seungcheol!”

“The door won’t open again.”

“What?”

“The door won’t open, Jihoon.”

The android stood at the bottom of the stairs, cursing for a moment. “Okay. Contingency plan.”

“Are you not-”

“Shut up for a minute.” Jihoon closed his eyes before opening them again, barely a second later. He took Seungcheol’s hand in his and began to tug him along. “This way. Run. Run!”

With seconds they were rushing through a maze in the darkness: there was a steep incline that almost turned into stairs and then they were struggling through ice and mud and dead grass, in the open light, barely ten steps away from the car. Jihoon practically threw his friend at the vehicle, ordering him in.

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go, before they see us. Go, go go!”

“Alright, alright.” Seungcheol’s frozen, shaking hands forced the car to life and he made a u-turn on the road to swivel round. “Get your head down so cars won’t see you.”

“We can’t go home,” Jihoon half-screamed, putting his head between his knees obediently. “They’ll track us and find us.”

“Nobody is tracking us.”

“We _can’t_ go home tonight.”

“Right.” Seungcheol tried to shake his head into action for a moment, relaxing as he sped down the road. “I assume we can’t see Chan, either?”

Jihoon shook his head.

“…alright, I know a place we can hide out. You won’t like it, but nobody will ever expect to find a highly advanced android there.”

“…is it a church? Because I’ve seen that movie, and I don’t think I can pass for a nun.”

“It’s not a church.” Seungcheol took a sharp left off the highway and into the tumult of the city. “…it’s a sex hotel.”


	15. Chillin in a sex hotel, like bros

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seungcheol and Jihoon lay low in a sex hotel.

“I’m sorry if this causes any misunderstandings. Like, if Hoshi… saw…” The look he clocked on Jihoon’s face caused his voice to fade. Unable to really question him further, he simply unlocked the doors. “Well, let’s just get in from the cold.”

The two hurried out of the car and hesitated slightly on the curb: this was not the classiest part of town, and the building’s exterior made no secret of what it contained. It was mainly the huge billboard with a naked woman on it that made Seungcheol cringe. He eventually shook his head, grabbed Jihoon’s arm and gently tugged him along.

The lady at the front desk looked bored, with her piercings and tattoos: she surveyed Seungcheol top to bottom as if she was regarding a piece of beef in the supermarket, and then scowled at Jihoon, sitting straighter. “Can I _help_ you?”

“We’d like a room please.” Seungcheol placed his card on the table smoothly. “For tonight until morning.”

She looked back at him, and then at Jihoon again. “We don’t serve minors here,” she sneered, nodding at him. “And also, it’s _disgusting_.”

“He’s nineteen,” Seungcheol muttered, surprise in his voice. There was a moment of confusion before he turned around and actually _looked_ at the android, who actually probably hadn’t been alive an entire year and almost looked it, too.

The lady looked at him. “Papers,” she snarled, “or I’m calling the police.”

Seungcheol turned to Jihoon and raised his eyebrows before realizing that illegally created human beings with android implants in their bodies probably did not have valid birth certificates or ID cards. “Shit.”

She was already reaching for her phone as Jihoon slid up, calm as a cucumber, pulled a syringe out of his pocket and jabbed it into her arm with lightning speed and precision, squeezing in a clear liquid.

By the time the lady had squeezed her eyes shut, clutched her dizzy head and opened them again, the syringe was out of sight, and Jihoon wore an angelic expression on his face. “Now that you’ve seen our IDs and we have paid, we’d like our room now please.”

She frowned, blinked and shook her head. “Yes, yes of course. Um… if it’s until the morning… um, I only have room nineteen.” She pulled a key off the wall behind her. “Up the stairs, last room on your right.”

“Thank you.” Jihoon left her smoother than Seungcheol did: they slowed down once they were out of sight, and Seungcheol had to ask.

“What just happened?”

“It’s a serum Father made. I swiped a whole bunch of stuff into my bag. It uh, it works kind of like… it blocks people’s memories? Only a few minutes at a time. And whatever you insinuate to be true, they believe.”

“… _okay_ , we didn’t pay-”

Jihoon sent him a look and simply opened up the room.

 

* * *

 

“Sorry about this.”

Jihoon shook his head. “It’s no biggie.”

The two stared at each other from across the heart-shaped, frilly white bed for a moment.

“At least I got some snacks from the hallway vending machine.”

“Yeah, we won’t starve.” Seungcheol popped another M&M into his mouth, putting one arm behind his head. “Sorry for the décor, but nobody will look for you here.”

“Suppose not.”

“And if they did, they’d expect to be looking for you with a girl, not a guy.”

“I guess so.” His answer was slower this time. “Seungcheol, can I ask you?”

He turned. “’sup?”

Jihoon finished arranging his M&Ms by colour on the bed, legs crossed in the air, before he answered. “You like Jeonghan, don’t you?”

The novelist turned back to stare at the ceiling. “Sure.”

“Then, at some point, you’ll be together?”

“I don’t know. Wouldn’t expect so. It’s not like that for him. Why?”

He didn’t answer, simply arranging his M&Ms into various patterns. “Then… when you’re in a relationship… what is it like?”

He had to think about it. “I guess… you go out on dates, and have fun times. You go and watch movies and take walks in the park and drink coffee. You take care of each other, and sometimes you have small fights, but you usually make up later. You make warm food when the other person is sick, and you text and phone a lot. That kind of thing.”

“I see.” Jihoon’s eyes never left his candy. “Then, taking care of each other… do you take care of Jeonghan?”

“I think he takes more care of me. But it’s not that kind of relationship. He’s my editor. He kind of has to make sure I’m alive. It’s part of his job description.”

“I see. So… what does taking care of somebody look like?”

“Why the sudden interest?” Jihoon never answered, so Seungcheol simply continued. “I guess it’s texting them, telling them to stay warm and eat things that are healthy for you, coming over and making them food, generally coddling them to make them feel better.”

He was quiet for a minute. “Are _we_ in a relationship?”

“What?”

Jihoon’s nose twitched. “You text me, you tell me to be warm. I make you food and tell you to be healthy. You cuddle me a lot.”

Seungcheol ruffled his friend’s hair. “Nah. We’re friends, that’s why we’re like that, but it’s not the same as being in a relationship.”

“So, they’re not the same?”

“Not really. With a relationship there’s kissing and… well, other stuff.” Seungcheol went pink for the first time. “What’s this all about?”

“If you’re interested in somebody… you will want them to be healthy?”

“Yes, of course. If you care.”

Jihoon  swept all his candy back into the little bag it came from and lay down on his side very suddenly. “I see. Thank you, for explaining it to me.”

Seungcheol didn’t want to ask – didn’t like to _intrude_ but curiosity got the best of him. “Are you going to tell me what’s up?”

Jihoon swallowed a little. “…Soonyoung saw me get hit by that tram.” A moment passed. “He ran away. He isn’t answering my texts.”

“Oh, Jihoon.” Seungcheol stared at the back of the boy’s head for a moment. “I’m so sorry.”

“Does that mean he doesn’t like me anymore?”

He grimaced. “…probably. I’m sorry.”

“Okay.”

“…you really liked him?”

“Yeah, I really liked him.”

“I’m sorry.” He gingerly placed a hand on Jihoon’s shoulder. “I don’t think he was good enough for you, if it makes any difference.”

Jihoon’s voice seemed to shrink with every word, becoming distant and little. “You warned me. You told me to stay away. You knew he was like this. I should have listened to you. You… care about me. You’re the one that takes care of me. You were right and I was wrong.”

“Please don’t feel like that about it. I don’t like that.” He gently brushed his fingers over Jihoon’s hair. “We all… experience heartbreak. Nobody likes it. I’m sorry he hurt you. That wasn’t okay for him to do.”

“I suppose.”

“…come here.” With one strong arm, Seungcheol pulled Jihoon’s body against his, spooning him. He kept his arm draped over the android’s stomach, holding him there. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispered comfortingly. “You’re going to be alright, Jihoonie.”

Jihoon tensed and then relaxed, allowing himself to be soothed until dark fell. The two sat around eating candy and playing games on their phones – GPS off, _of course_ – until they finally tired and slid under the covers.

“Seungcheol… are you awake?”

He only just barely heard it. “Yeah. What’s up?”

Jihoon’s voice lilted, only a little louder than before. “I… I just left him there.”

Seungcheol turned around to him, but only Jihoon’s back was visible.

“I just left him there. 02. My _brother_. I barely thought of him. I only thought of myself and ran away like a coward. I left him there to be found by people who want to use me, kill me. What will they do to him if they find him? But he’s not finished. His software isn’t complete. If they found him… I just left him there. I ran away. I just… _left him behind_.”

“Jihoon, Jihoon! You said yourself there was no way he could come with us. You had no choice. You hid him well. You had _no_ choice.” He paused. “You saved me too, you know, by leaving. Thank you for that.”

“But he’s my brother. I should have thought of a better solution.”

“ _Was_ there a solution?” Seungcheol just stared at him in the dark. “You’ve got an amazing brain and all the benefit of technology and internet. Think about it, calculate and tell me. Was there a better solution? One where we all could have gotten out there together and it was all going to be fine?”

After a few moments Jihoon turned around to look at his friend. “No. No, there wasn’t. Not in his condition. I couldn’t have taken him out of there without completing Father’s work. The result could be disastrous.”

“Then you did the right thing.” Seungcheol cupped Jihoon’s face softly. “Stop beating yourself up and let it go.”

“But what if I never-”

“Jihoon, go to sleep. You’re exhausted.” Seungcheol patted his hair a little. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”

The android sighed. “Alright.”

“Hey, by the way, did you manage to swipe your batteries?”

“Yeah, I got a few things.” He twitched his nose a little. “I’ll check the batteries when I get home.”

He nodded. “Alright then. Go to sleep, now.”

“Okay.”

 

“Are you still awake?”

“Kinda.”

“I have a question.”

“Go on.”

“If we’re on a sex hotel, shouldn’t we be having sex?”

Seungcheol had to lock all his muscles to stop himself from jumping out of the bed and running for the hills. “Uh, no, Jihoon. We’re friends.”

“According to the internet, friends often have sex. It’s called _friends with benefits_.”

“Jihoon, we are not going to have that kind of relationship.” A new thought dawned him, freezing him in place. “Do… you _want_ to have sex with me?”

The android seemed non-committal. “I’m just curious. You seem to be an exceptional male specimen. And you’re really nice to me. You take care of me. I’m trying to get down to the specifics of our relationship.”

“Jihoon, I care about you… the way I care about my kid brother. You’re special to me and I want to take care of you, but it’s not romantic. Or sexual.”

“Oh. I see.”

“I’m sorry, did that hurt your feelings?”

“No, not really.” And his voice proved it. “You think I’m special?”

“Of course you are.”

It took him a moment. “I like being special. It makes me feel pretty.”

“You _should_ feel pretty.”

“Thanks.” Jihoon sighed. He curled his arms around Seungcheol’s back, becoming a very very small _big spoon_. “For everything. Seungcheol.”

Jihoon fell asleep relatively quickly after that, breathing slow. Seungcheol was left, unable to sleep, staring into the darkness. Because the idea that he and Jihoon could ever be an item wasn’t a thought he’d had before. And now that he’d had it… he wasn’t sure if he could stop thinking about it at all.

_After all… what did **exceptional male specimen** mean anyway?!_

_Maybe it meant he was tall and strong. That’s a fairly objective opinion._

_Maybe it’s how androids talk dirty. Maybe Jihoon doesn’t know how that works._

_Oh God, what if he has a crush on me?_

_…why does that sound really nice?_


	16. They Slept Together But 5 Meters Apart Because They're Not Gay

“Good morning.”

Seungcheol stared at the boy from head to toe before looking away. “Morning.”

“Did you not sleep? You have dark circles under your eyes.”

“I slept. Eventually.”

“I’m sorry, was it because we slept together?”

“We didn’t sleep together!” Seungcheol barked before sighing, placing himself of the edge of the bed. “Just… get ready to go home. Alright?”

Jihoon scowled for a moment, shoulders sagging a little. “Did I do something bad?”

“No. I’m just tired and I want to go home and have a shower.”

“…okay.” Jihoon quietly tucked his half-eaten candy away in his backpack on top of his technical equipment. “I’m ready.”

“Good.” Seungcheol didn’t bother glancing at Jihoon when they left the room: he didn’t bother being courteous with the cashier he left the key with: he didn’t speak to Jihoon the whole way home until they got back to their untouched apartment. “You want dibs on the shower?”

“No, you can go first.” Jihoon’s voice was a little small, staring at the elevator door as they went up.

“Good.”

 

Jihoon came out of the shower with dripping hair, grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt a half-size too small. It clung to the boy’s chest in a dark spot where he obviously hadn’t entirely dried off. He combed his fingers through his hair, forcing the fringe off his forehead.

_Oh, God, I’m a pervert. No! No, no, no. There’s nothing weird here. It’s just Jihoon out of the shower. It’s fine. It’s not weird._

Seungcheol buried his nose deeper into his magazine, trying desperately not to glance at the android as he crossed to the kitchen, filled a glass with water, and began to drink. He failed miserably, of course, staring at the shadow of Jihoon’s Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he drank. He didn’t miss the droplet of water that escaped the corner of his mouth or loud sigh when he was done that puffed his chest up.

“Jihoon, stop doing that!” he barked, making Jihoon flinch in surprise.

Jihoon looked at his glass and gently put it down before retreating to his room, being very careful to close the door quietly.

“Ugh.” Seungcheol grunted to himself, putting his head in his hands for a moment. He was mid-way considering that it was at all possible for him to be attracted to Jihoon when a very impatient bell rang and he had to let Jeonghan into the apartment.

“Where the _hell_ have you been?” The editor glared darkly, bouldering into Seungcheol’s apartment with vigour. “I’ve been texting you since yesterday.”

“Sorry, I was out and my battery died-”

“Well next time take your charger with you! Where the hell do you think you’re running off to with only a month left before we’re supposed to get that draft to the printer’s? You had better have a good explanation!”

Seungcheol faltered. “I do, but… it’s, uh…”

“It’s my fault.” A new voice hemmed behind them. “My brother was in a lot of trouble and I imposed on Seungcheol’s good will to help me with travel. I’m sorry. I hope this hasn’t caused any real trouble for your work.”

Jeonghan’s attitude changed immediately: the hands that were grasping Seungcheol’s shirt in anger now smoothed around his neck, and his chest pushed out in fury sidled up for a snuggle. “Oh, I see.” He paused. “Isn’t Seungcheol such a nice man? I’m sure we’ll be able to fix it between the two of us. Won’t we, Cheollie?”

 _Cheollie_ nodded quickly. “Yeah, I’ve only got two or three chapters left. I can have those done in a few days.”

“See? It’s fine. Seungcheol, how about you hand me the next chapter and I can go through it here while you start working?”

“S-sure.” Seungcheol shot Jihoon a grateful look as he went to find the small stack of papers somewhere amongst the trash piled on his desk. “Jihoon can you set the kettle?”

“Yes, Jihoon, have some tea with me while I look over this chapter.”

 

“So.” Jeonghan crossed his legs and set his hands upon them, leaving the manuscript on the table, untouched. “Time we had a little chat.”

Jihoon turned to him. “Yes?”

“Until when will you be staying here, Jihoon?”

“Uhm…”

“You can’t stay here forever, you know.”

He didn’t answer.

“I mean, _obviously_ Seungcheol needs somebody around to take care of him, but I’m not too sure you can make the cut.” He tilted his head. “Don’t look so surprised. Surely you must have noticed by now? You’re quite the burden to our Seungcheol. You’re always going out together and distracting him from his work. He’s been looking a little pale, too. I don’t think what you’re cooking is nutritious enough. Don’t you see the way he scowls at you? You’re in the way here. You didn’t notice?”

His words were slow. “I… did… not.”

“Well, you’ll have to become more observant, so as not to be in the way so much.” Jeonghan sniffed a little. “Of course, until he finds a replacement, I suppose you’ll have to stay, but if you’re going to stay you should really notice more when you’re being a bother. Now he has to rush his work because you bothered him for your personal needs. Next time just keep it to yourself. It’s not like you and Seungcheol are friends.”

“He said we were friends.” Jihoon had meant the statement to sound defiant, but it just sounded small.

“Oh, did he? That’s Seungcheol’s way of making you feel comfortable. He’s too nice. Don’t you see? That’s the problem. He’s too nice, so even though you’re a bother and a nuisance, he still won’t say anything, that’s why I’m here.”

“Oh.”

Jeonghan sipped his tea, pleased with himself before picking up the manuscript. “If you understand, please do something useful.”

 

“Jihoon, what’s for dinner?”

“Roasted vegetables.”

“…and?”

“Chicken stew.”

“Oh.” He bridled. “It’s Thursday. I thought we always had pizza on Thursdays.”

“Pizza is unhealthy.”

Seungcheol hovered on the other side of the kitchen, frowning at the android. “But you like pizza. It’s not like you to care abou-”

“Well, I care now. It’ll be another half hour.”

It was times like this when every cell in Seungcheol’s body cried out – he wanted to hug Jihoon, wrap the boy up in his arms and ask him what was wrong. Cuddle him, help him, let him relax in the safety of his embrace. And normally, that was what he would do. But it was _because_ he felt the strong urge that he resisted.

Because now everything was different, and the same, and weird, and normal, and it was driving Seungcheol crazy trying to figure out what was going on.

He just stared as Jihoon continued to chop vegetables, a little frown etched on his face. “Um… alright then. Call me if you need any help.”

“I won’t. Don’t bother with me. Just work.”

 

“This is delicious, Jihoon, thank you.”

“You’re welcome but you don’t have to thank me.”

Seungcheol flinched, as if he’d just been told to shut up. “Alright… I’ll wash up later so don’t-”

“I’ll wash up.”

“It’s okay, I can wash up some dishes.”

“I already said I’ll do it.”

“Okay, what’s wrong with you? You’ve been snapping at me all day.”

“I haven’t been snapping.” Jihoon cleared his dishes off the kitchen table in one easy swoop. “Just put your dishes on the counter when you’re done.”

 

Seungcheol swept the crust from his eyes a few times before leaning against the doorpost. “You cooked?”

“That’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?”

“Thanks, Jihoon.” He smiled softly. “I love pancakes in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Hey, are you charged properly?”

“My internal battery is at 92%.”

Seungcheol sighed and slid into his seat at the table. “Alright then, if you say so.”

 

A massive groan erupted from the corner of the room. “Jihoonie! Can you get that? It should be the package I ordered the other day.”

“I’m already getting it. Hello?”

“Hi-” The boy downstairs didn’t get another moment before Jihoon buzzed the door open and allowed him entry.

When he arrived, the two stood there staring for a moment.

“Don’t you have a package for us?”

“Uh, no.” The boy removed his cap to shake his shaggy brown hair. “Do I have the wrong house? I thought my brother lived here.”

“Your brother?”

“Choi Seungcheol?”

Jihoon’s eyebrows went up, then down. “Oh, you’re his brother. Come in, come in. _Cheol! You have a visitor!_ ”

“A visitor? Who the- _Hansol!_ ”

The boy dropped the duffel bag from his arm and the two embraced in a hearty hug that ended in Seungcheol ruffling his little brother’s hair warmly. “You twerp! What are you doing here?”

Hansol stretched to his full height, beamed a happy smile at his brother and announced, “I’m coming to live here!”

 

“You _ran away from home_?”

“Not really.” Hansol had the goodness about him to look sheepish. “I told them I was leaving. And dad said _fine_. So I just grabbed my stuff and left.”

Seungcheol sighed, dragging a palm over his face before taking a drink of the tea Jihoon had made. “God. I didn’t know it had gotten that bad.”

“It’s pretty nasty.”

“I know they’re kind of hard to live with, but I didn’t think you’d move out this soon. You’re only seventeen.”

“I know.” Hansol sniffed a little. “But I’m pretty mature. Even you know that.”

Seungcheol watched Jihoon cross the apartment, hands full of laundry to be done. “I guess so, but I don’t really want to have to put up with mom screaming and yelling at me. Again.”

“I don’t think she will. I think she trusts you more. Now that you’re a responsible adult with your own apartment and a best-selling novelist. And it’s not like dad cares.”

Seungcheol sighed. “Yeah, I know. I’m sure he’s happy enough with everybody out of his way now.”

Hansol looked up in hope. “So… I can stay?”

“Yes! Of course, you think I’m gonna kick my own baby brother out into the streets? Of course you can stay. It’ll take some time to refurbish the study though.”

The boy beamed. “That’s okay! I don’t need much, I can bunk on the couch if you like.”

“No, it’s okay. I need to clean out the study anyway. I don’t really use it that much except as a dumping ground for research papers and to use my laptop, and I can do that anywhere.” Seungcheol poured himself another cup of tea. “It’s not very big but you’ll have your own space.”

“Thanks.” Hansol smiled into his cup. “I knew you’d take care of me. I don’t know how Nayoung did it all by herself.”

“Our sister’s always been tough. I’ve never been worried about her. I remember she could scream just as hard back at dad as he did to her. He tried to hit her once and she almost threw him through a wall. It was magic. I don’t know how, but Nayoung’s made of something different from us.”

Hansol thought about it. “I guess she was on her own for a long time.”

“Not that long. She’s only four years older than me, remember. But yeah, I suppose she _was_ alone. And then, the greatest blessing of her life came along.” He struck a heroic pose. “Me.”

Hansol rolled his eyes with a good-natured smile and waited for his older brother to calm down. He cupped his hands around his mug and leaned in a little. “So, uh… who’s your friend?”

“Who, Jihoon? He’s my housemate.”

“I didn’t know you had one, after Nayoung moved out.”

“Yeah, I forgot to tell everybody. We’re good buddies, aren’t we Jihoon?”

At the voice growing louder, Jihoon paused in the middle of the apartment, the stack of fresh, clean bedlinen in his arms almost blocking out his face. “Uh… hmm?”

“I said we’re good buddies.”

“Yeah.”

The two stared at each other for a moment.

“That’s all I wanted, Jihoonie.”

“Oh, okay.”

Hansol turned to his brother again, leaning in and whispering. “He’s a bit… odd.”

Seungcheol winced. “Yeah, it’s, uh… hard to explain. He’s special, though. And he means well. Really, he’s a great guy. He cleans this whole place and cooks and does all kinds of things for me and never asks for anything in return. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

 

“Mattress flipped, clean bedlinen, personal items removed and folded neatly into a bag. I’m beginning to sound like Seungcheol.” The android had found that, when faced with a number of tasks to do one after the other, he began to list them out loud and tick them off in his head, much like the scatter-brained writer he lived with.

Then he simply shrugged on his coat, flung his sizable duffle bag over his shoulder and left the building.

 

“Hey, Seungcheol?”

“Yeah?”

“Uh… isn’t it time for you to, like… eat?”

The novelist flicked his wrist, saw the time, and leapt right out of his seat for a moment before standing there in a daze, eyes glazed over. “Uh…”

Hansol stood across from him, with matching body language – hilarious, if there had been any onlookers to laugh at two fully grown men with no idea what to do at dinner time.

Seungcheol shook his head abruptly, shooting into motion. “Jihoon said he defrosted lamb. Normally he’d be in the kitchen by now.” A brief knock on his bedroom door echoed through the apartment. “Jihoon? Are you okay? You’re not sick, are you? I’m coming in.”

Jihoon’s room was spotless: windows polished, bedlinen changed, floor vacuumed. It was cleaner than it ever had been, with the windowsill dusted and the mirror sparkling. Only a small envelope, unmarked, was left on the desk.

Like the oblivious fool that he was, Seungcheol picked it up and opened it.

 

_Dear Seungcheol,_

_Now that your brother has come to stay with you I realize I have become surplus. I trust that Hansol will be able to provide your needs such as food and a regular time table more than I ever could, since I’m not really human. The lamb is in the fridge, all prepared, it just needs to be cooked. I hope my absence will ease the discord you have with Jeonghan. Thank you for everything you have done for me. I’m sorry if I get you into trouble._

_I’m sorry for how much I’ve annoyed you. I know lately you’ve been upset with me and I know it’s because I’m encroaching on you too much. Please accept my sincerest apologies. I hope that, by never hearing from me ever again, I can somehow make up for it._

_Goodbye, Seungcheol._

_Jihoon._

Seungcheol stood, reading and re-reading, his eyes tripping over the words a few times. Then he threw the letter on the ground and headed for his coat and shoes, immediately.

“Hansol, I’m going out. Stay here and order pizza. I’ll try and be back before dawn.”

“Where are you going?”

He paused for a moment, shrugging his coat on, his eyes black and face pale. “I’m going to get my Jihoon.”


	17. Just two guys, chillin in a mad scientists lab in front of a half-finished android, 2 feet apart, cause they're best friends

“Pick up. Pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up… pick _up_ damn it!” Seungcheol hit the breaks too hard at a red light, knuckles going white as his fingers crunched around his phone. Jihoon wasn’t picking up, and it wasn’t that he was ignoring him, either – his phone was switched off or out of range, and that panicked him more than before.

“Fine,” he muttered to himself, jabbing the red button, frustrated. “Then let’s see what the dickhead has to say for himself.”

It took him a moment. “Seungcheol? What’s up?”

“Jeonghan, what did you say to Jihoon?”

There was a pause as the tires under Seungcheol’s body screeched.

“Nothing? Why?”

“He seems to think his presence in my apartment is a problem for you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The lilt in his voice gave him away – Seungcheol banged his wrist off the steering wheel in frustration. “Damn it Jeonghan, this isn’t a fucking game! Jihoon is _gone_ and it’s because you said some fucking shit to him, didn’t you?!”

There was another pause. “He left you _alone_?” came the horrified reply.

A new thought came to Seungcheol, and he immediately pulled over and cut the engine. “No,” he answered, his voice suddenly entirely calm. “Hansol left home and decided to come live with me.”

“Hansol?”

“My brother.”

Jeonghan’s voice picked up, more perky and lively than before. “Oh! Well that’s alright then, isn’t it? Your brother can take care of you. You don’t need another housemate.”

“It’s not about _me_ needing _him_ – he _depends_ on me, Jeonghan!”

“Well, that’s just the problem, isn’t it? He’s an unwelcome distraction to your work.”

The suspicion, horror and disappointment leaked into Seungcheol’s voice all at once. “You told him he was in the way, didn’t you?”

“I don’t recall-”

“You told him he was giving me trouble, so you _fucking told him to leave and find somewhere else to stay, **didn’t you?**_ ” Seungcheol had to put the phone down for a moment, looking away with a sarcastic grin of disbelief on his face. “You’re a fucking snake, Jeonghan.”

“That’s not fair. I never told him to leave. Besides, since he came to live with you, you never call me anymore. We don’t get time together anymore.”

Seungcheol started the car again. “Jeonghan, I’m tired of calling you when all you do is lead me on. Now I’ve got to fucking find Jihoon before somebody else does!”

“Lead you on?”

“Oh, don’t pull that fake-innocent tone with me! You better fucking get off your butt _right now_ and help me find Jihoon.”

There was a moment’s silence as Jeonghan considered the threat. “Why are you so upset? Are you guys sleeping together or something?”

“ _No!_ Bu-”

“Then what’s the big deal? He’s just a housemate. It’s not like he’s special or anything.”

Images seemed to flash through Seungcheol’s subconscious mind – the image of the perfect little boy, standing in a snow drift, watching the flakes fall to the ground. The look of single-minded focus and utmost determination after his arm was ripped off by a moving vehicle. The guilty look on his face the morning he was repaired. The smile on his face when he was comforted.

“Jihoon is the most special person on the planet.” His voice was soft. “You don’t even know half of it.”

“So  you _are_ sleeping together.”

He snapped out of it. “What? No! But he’s-”

“I’ll help you look. I’ll circle the area around your place if you go to his favourite locations. But you’re a dick, and I hope you know that.”

The line went dead.

 

Seungcheol had been to two pizza restaurants before rolling up to Chan’s apartment, leaning heavily on the doorbell.

“Hello?”

“Chan, it’s Seungcheol.”

“Sorry?” He paused. “I don’t know a Seungcheol.”

It took him a moment to remember he’d given Chan a fake name, and then he didn’t have time to recall what it was. “The guy Jihoon is staying with.”

“Oh! Hey, yo-”

“Jihoon is gone.”

“What?”

“Jihoon has disappeared. I was hoping he was with you.”

There was a five-second silence that felt like eternity.

“Keep your engine running. I’m coming down.”

 

“…what’s in the suitcase?”

“Don’t ask.” Chan buckled into a seatbelt. “It’s in case of an extreme emergency and I really, _really_ don’t want to have to use it. Where have you been so far?”

“His favourite food places.” Seungcheol pulled out onto the road. “Since it’s dinner time already.”

“Have you called him?”

“Nine times. His phone is off.”

“What about his GPS locator?”

“He never switches it on.”

“Good.” Chan gripped both sides of his seat. “Oh God.”

“What?”

“I feel… _sick_.”

Seungcheol eyed him for a while before slowing down. “You don’t _own_ a car, do you?”

“Are you kidding? If I leave my apartment once a week, that’s a record.” The computer genius squeezed his eyes shut. “Just drive. Finding Jihoon is more important right now.”

Seungcheol accelerated – carefully.

“Where else has he been going?”

“Uh, we’ve been to the supermarket… and the mall, but only a few times. We’ve been for coffee –”

“Coffee.”

Seungcheol silently switched lanes.

 

“Mingyu!”

“Hey, Seung-”

“Has Jihoon been in?”

The barista thought for a moment. “Uh, yeah, he was here an hour ago.”

“He left?”

“With five black coffees.”

Chan and Seungcheol looked at each other apprehensively for a moment.

“What’s up?”

“He ran away.” Seungcheol held the door open for Chan to pop out. “If he shows up again, call me. _Immediately._ ”

“Sure-”

“Where to next?”

Chan got into the passenger’s seat again, massaging his temples harshly. “Where would a wanted android feel safest? Where would he have the most emotional attachment?”

Seungcheol suddenly straightened in his seat. “Emotional attachment?”

“Yeah…” Chan gave him a careful look. “You know a place?”

Seungcheol nodded curtly, engine revving. “I suspect you’ll like it even less than I did. It’s a three-hour drive, though. I’m not sure I want to try it. If he’s not there, we’ll have wasted plenty of time.”

Chan gripped him. “Is it outside the city?”

“It’s in the middle of _nowhere_.”

“Go.” The young man scrambled into the back seat of the car, opening the suitcase, whispering at the smaller of the two devices inside. “You’re not needed now,” he whispered happily, opening up his laptop. “Another day, but hopefully not.”

“What are you doing?”

“I have several programmes that can track my tech. In the city there’s thousands of hits because I helped make a lot of computer chips. But in the middle of nowhere? Less likely. The professor never allowed me to brand the tech that went into Jihoon, but he’s a walking talking _enormous_ hunk of biomechanics. I’ll be able to pick him up at a distance.”

“Worth a shot.”

 

“Pull over.” When the car slowed, Chan scrambled forward once more, placing the laptop in front of Seungcheol. On it was a map, and on the map, a scintillating bubble of red dots. “Are we roughly going here?”

Seungcheol grimaced. “…yes.”

“That’s him alright. Let’s go get him.” Chan settled in his seat and was silent for some time until he finally looked out the window, and the unsettling truth began to dawn on him. “…Seungcheol?” he whispered quietly.

“Yes?”

“Is Jihoon in the professor’s laboratory?”

Seungcheol sighed, deeply. “Yes.”

“You’ve been there before.”

“He thought it was worth risking to get a hold of his solar-powered batteries.”

“He was right.” Chan stared at the red bubbles on his screen for a moment. “I don’t want to go back,” he said quietly. “That house is evil. It holds cold, painful memories of failed experiments and gene splicing and other things that shouldn’t be done.”

Seungcheol wiped the sweat off his brow. “Do you want me to drop you somewhere and come back for you?”

“No.” Chan looked straight out the window into the darkness of the night. “I want to find my friend before somebody finds him with less kind intentions.”

 

Seungcheol parked in the driveway – no sneaking around this time – and in the black of the night, used one enormous push of the shoulder to bust the front door in.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Chan whispered, lingering in the doorway.

“Stay here on watch-out then. Call me if anybody shows up.” Seungcheol didn’t even turn: he simply walked deeper into the house, and when he found the door to the cellar open, he simply walked through.

The music wasn’t playing this time: Jihoon must have switched it off. He sat in a far corner of the underground lab on a stool, in front of a small construction. When Seungcheol finally ran around the corner and saw him sitting there, unharmed and unscathed, he simply fell to his knees.

“Jihoon.”

Jihoon barely looked up, his hand on a biomechanical sack that contained the still-writhing form of his brother. “Seungcheol.”

The fury and release of worry burst through Seungcheol’s body, and he clambered forward to throw his arms around the android. “What the fuck, Jihoon? Why did you switch off your phone? Do you know how worried I was?”

Jihoon spoke through unmoving lips. “It ran out of battery power. Sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t good enough! Do you know how worried I’ve been?” Seungcheol sat on the ground for a moment. “Jihoon, what are you thinking? Running away from home?”

“Your apartment is not my home. It’s not where I belong. This is where I belong.”

“Jihoon!” Seungcheol gripped the boy by the shoulders and turned him, shaking him slightly. “Jihoon! You are my _best friend._ Why would I ever want you to leave?”

The android looked at him. “You’re too nice,” was all he mumbled.

“I know Jeonghan said something stupid to you, didn’t he? Well you can ignore him, ‘cause he’s a fucking idiot. I want you to stay. Please stay? You don’t know when you could be caught or hurt again. I can’t believe I found you.” He hugged him again. “It’s okay, I’ve got you, I’ve got you. You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

Jihoon sat there limply as he was hugged. “I’m sorry. I made you worry.”

“You made me worry a lot. Do you know how scary it is to have somebody suddenly gone like that? With a goodbye note and everything?” Seungcheol pulled away to look at Jihoon’s face before hugging him again. “Don’t ever do that to me again. I want you to stay.”

“You don’t need me around anymore,” Jihoon said. “Your little brother came. I’ll only be in the way.”

He shook his head, not letting go. “That’s not true, Jihoon. I like having Hansol around, sure, but I _do_ need you. I need you a lot and you won’t be in the way at all.”

“But Hansol can cook and clean. It’s not difficult.”

“I need you for other things, too.”

“Like what?”

At this, Seungcheol paused. He didn’t have an answer to that. “Just other things.”

Jihoon stared at his brother for a moment. “This is my birthplace. Where I was created. Where I was grown. This is where I belong.”

“No. This was where your body was mutilated to serve a purpose.” Seungcheol gripped Jihoon’s face gently in both his hands, cradling his jaw. “This was where you were imprisoned. This is where you learned things about the world that aren’t true. You’re supposed to be with me. You’re _my_ friend now, and you belong with me. You belong in the sunshine, smiling. You belong where you are loved and taken care for.”

Jihoon seemed surprised, but not convinced.

“Chan came.”

The boy almost leapt right off his seat in shock. “ _What?!_ ”

“Chan is at the front door, on the lookout. Chan wants you to come back. He wants you home, with me, where you are safe. Where evil men won’t lay out traps for you. He didn’t want to come, either. He was… upset… when he found out where you’d come.”

Jihoon’s knuckles went white where his fingers grasped his seat. “Chan doesn’t like being here,” he murmured. “He’s seen bad things here.”

“I know. He told me. But he came anyway. For you.”

Jihoon gave him a strange, mistrusting kind of look.

“Are bad people not going to come for you here?”

“No. I scanned the premises. They haven’t been back since the last time we were here. There’s no traps laid out, either.” Jihoon stared forward for a moment. “We’re alone.”

Seungcheol moved to sit beside his friend. “Please come home.”

It took him a moment. “Jeonghan said you were too nice. That you wouldn’t say anything if I was being a bother. Last time, to get my solar batteries… I imposed too much on you. Kept you from your work. Jeonghan’s right. You wouldn’t tell me if I was being a bother. That’s the kind of good person you are.”

“You’re _never_ a bother, you _needed_ those batteries, I spent a day to help a friend in need – it wasn’t the end of the world. Even Jeonghan knows it was no big deal, he was just being a dick. You’re a significant improvement in my life, Jihoon. I need you.”

The android blinked. “I don’t understand what for.”

Seungcheol stared at his own hands for a moment. “It’s important that you’re safe and happy. I don’t want you to get hurt. You remember that time when your arm got ripped off? I’ve never been so terrified in my life. I need you close so I can keep an eye on you and watch you, and just… have you near.”

“But _why_?”

“Because! Because you’re _Jihoon_. Because you try so hard and you’re so kind and you do so much for me. Because you’re importa-”

They both flinched, hushing to silence when the biomechanical sack moved slightly. Jihoon just stared sullenly at the sight of it.

“I want to help him.”

Seungcheol simply nodded.

“I don’t like him being here, alone. I put more fuel in the generator, but… when _I_ was growing, I became aware. I heard voices and understood language. I knew I was not alone, and in the moments of time when I was alone and the light was off, I felt terrible anxiety. I know it’s strange, for a robot to have anxiety. But I was so… so _alone_. I didn’t have anything or anybody. How long has 02 been alone for, Seungcheol? How long did he live without warmth or sound or interaction of any kind? There is something wrong with him, but I… I’m scared. I’m scared to leave him here, and I’m scared to help him.” Suddenly, he looked up, his hushed voice becoming slightly less strained. “I’m sure that doesn’t sound right. A robot with feelings.”

Seungcheol stared at the boy. “You’re not a robot,” he whispered back. “You’re a boy. A super boy, but a boy nonetheless.”

“You think so?”

Seungcheol took his hand. “Your hands are cold.” He picked it up in both of his and hawed on it slightly. “But there is warmth here, and blood. There’s flush in your cheeks and intelligence in your eyes. You’re a real man, Jihoon. You’re not some half-way there pinocchio, you’re real. You’re enhanced, but you’re real and good.”

The android finally smiled – a small, pretty, shy smile that curled up at the corners. “Thank you,” he said. “That’s really nice to hear.”

“You know what I think is nice to hear?”

“What?”

“ _Welcome home._ ”

Jihoon sighed deeply. “What about 02?”

“You can’t stay here, Jihoon. They _will_ find you. Is there no hard drive with 02’s information on it you can swipe? And study from home.”

Jihoon blinked. “I suppose that would suffice. But I still don’t understand why you like me so much.”

Seungcheol blinked. “Because we’re friends, of course. Now.” He stood up and reached both arms wide open. “Are you coming home with me?”

Before he had a chance to answer, there was a loud, sickened panting. “Guys,” Chan called. “We have a problem, and it looks an awful lot like a caravan of SUVs full of scary guys with guns type of problem!”


	18. Selfish

Jihoon was entirely calm: he simply picked up his bag and walked through the laboratory, picking up little boxes and strangely-shaped items along the way. “Okay,” he said.

Seungcheol followed after him tightly, and Chan jogged up alongside them.

“Uh Jihoon, shouldn’t we get out of here?”

Jihoon’s tone was deceptively calm – almost as if he was seeing humour in the situation. “They found and blocked up the exit from last time. The only way we’re going to get out is through the kitchen upstairs.”

“That’s a problem,” Seungcheol continued tensely.

“Hmmm, _not really_.”

“Not really?”

“Not really.”

Chan spoke for the first time in a minute. His tone was full of warning. “ _Jihoooooon…?_ ”

“This is my father’s laboratory, after all. La-bo-ra-to-ry. A place where you make stuff. How far away did you park?”

“Driveway.”

“ _Driveway?!_ ” Jihoon turned, the severity of the situation finally dawning on his face. “Oh, come _on_! You couldn’t park two blocks down the street or something?”

“I was in a _bit_ of a panic with my best friend running away,” Seungcheol answered just as crustily.

Behind them both, Chan shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“Okay, then we’ll need this.” Jihoon stretched up on the tips of his toes, trying to reach the top shelf on the wall – Seungcheol simply put his hands in the android’s armpits and helped him up.

What he pulled down from the shelf was a long tube.

“Jihoon.”

“Seungcheol.”

“Please tell me that is not a bazooka.”

“That is not a bazooka.”

“Oh good.” Seungcheol sighed in relief, shoulder sagging as the contraption was given to Chan. “What is it?”

“It’s a polyelastomersaccharideresinthermicprojectile.”

There was a brief silence.

Chan shoved it on his shoulder. “It’s a bazooka that shoots boiling sugar gum.”

“Oh. That makes me feel a lot better.” Unfortunately, the sarcasm was lost on both the antisocial computer genius and the busy android, so Seungcheol’s only option was to dawdle behind them, accepting the items handed to him: a long grey tube closely resembling a pool noodle, a pair of black swimming goggles, a plastic mickey mouse mask, and two infinitesimal green earplugs.

“Ready?”

“What do I _do_ with these?”

Jihoon and Chan were already headed for the stairs back to the kitchen. “Put the mask on your face, goggles on your eyes, and when you step outside put the plugs in your nose.”

“In my _nose_?”

“And don’t breathe through your mouth.”

“How-”

“Hush.”

Seungcheol almost flinched in disgust at being told to _hush_ but complied anyway, guessing that the genius and the android who were entirely calm with the situation and obviously well-prepared probably knew what they were doing. Because he certainly didn’t and getting killed wasn’t really on his agenda.

The plugs were surprisingly breathable – there was a little splutter at first, and then he became accustomed to the half-second delay of air, and it was fine. He attached the mask to his head over the goggles and plugs, and trailed behind.

The night didn’t smell of anything, though that could have been because of the nose plugs: it was hard to see through the mask and the goggles, but there was a thins trip of light on the horizon, ready to burst forth at a moment’s notice. It hadn’t really dawned on him how long he had been searching for Jihoon.

_Haha, dawned. Get it? ‘cause it’s dawn._

_No, Seungcheol’s brain. Bad. Bad time to be making jokes. Jihoon could get hurt here. **You** could get hurt here. Stop that now. _

Something was said, but he missed anything that was more than a deep, strong gravel and a crusty answer: there was a loud whistle, a loud, almost comical _poof_ sound, and then the whole world turned into a mixture of white smoke and bright, _bright_ pink. There was a dizzying swirling of the air, as if he was falling – and then he was being dragged along, feet working purely by instinct as he tripped over them several times. The grey tube was ripped from his hands, and then he was physically being shoved into the car. It took him a couple of disoriented moments to realize he was behind the wheel.

“ _Me?!_ ” was the only incredulous shout he could give.

“I can’t drive,” two voices chorused.

Fingers fumbled with the ignition, and the car stalled twice before Seungcheol managed to get it in drive and began to zoom along the highway.

“Phew,” Jihoon smiled, settling happily in the passenger’s seat. “That was fun.”

“Fun? _Fun? You call what we just went through **fun**?_ ” There was some consternation in the car as Chan nearly had an aneurysm and a chemical implosion at the same time: the two bickered, and as they did so, Seungcheol’s blood pressure rose more and more.

“Uh, guys?”

“Yes?” Jihoon turned back to him calmly.

“Are we not about to be pursued by a bunch of nasty guys?”

Jihoon shrugged nonchalantly, relatively unbothered. “We have a massive head start on anybody who didn’t get burned or stuck in the resin, and we have foam on your plates that change your plate number every ten minutes. Get onto the highway and we will be fine.”

“Oh.” Seungcheol made a turn onto the highway, tension unlocking a little from his shoulders. “I see.”

 

Chan gripped the boy in a hug, very uncharacteristically, and seemed to say something, but Seungcheol wasn’t entirely sure what. And he also wasn’t entirely sure that he wanted to know. After the last few hours of his life had finally been digested and he realized where he stood in life, the exhaustion was starting to set in. From the euphoria of seeing his brother to the sheer panic of finding Jihoon missing, to relief when he was found, to adrenaline rush trying to escape a mad scientist’s lab for the second time, Seungcheol was weak. He had started to hallucinate the feeling of the covers of his bed when Jihoon slid back into the car.

“Ready to go?”

Jihoon stilled Seungcheol’s hand on the ignition. “Stop.”

It took Seungcheol a groggy moment. “Why?”

Jihoon bridled in his seat. “I need help.”

The novelist shook his head, forcing his eyes a little wider. “What’s wrong?”

“I need help talking.”

He frowned.

“Should I apologize?”

Seungcheol shut his eyes for a moment. “I would like an apology, but I don’t want one if you’re not sincere about it.”

Jihoon was still for a moment. “What would you like me to apologize for?”

“You seriously don’t _know?!_ ” Seungcheol opened his eyes again, furious, but the fury ebbed when he saw the android slumped in a little corner of his seat, looking hopeless and miserable. “…you… really _don’t_ know… do you?”

“I know that I’ve hurt you and I’ve been a bother.” He looked up curiously. “Can you explain it in detail, so that I can apologize properly?”

Seungcheol nodded slowly, starting the engine again. “Yeah, I think so.” It took him a moment, getting out of the driveway in front of Chan’s apartment. “You hurt my feelings by assuming I didn’t want or need you around. You worried me by leaving suddenly. I was also hurt I didn’t get a real-life goodbye, where we could have talked it out. Even if we didn’t talk, it would have been nice to see your face. I’m hurt that you thought you were making my life difficult by being around when really you made it a lot better. I’m hurt that you let Jeonghan hiss cruel words into your ear, although I suppose I can forgive you for that. I was very worried about my closest friend, scared and alone and sought-after. You didn’t make it easy to contact you either, so I was doubly worried something had happened. You scared and worried me a lot tonight, Jihoon. I love my little brother, but you… are important to me too. I don’t want you to ever feel like you don’t have a place in my life.”

Jihoon stared out the front window. “I see. I apologize for all of it, Seungcheol. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it. I’ll remember next time.”

“There won’t _be_ a next time.”

“Okay.”

It took him a moment. “Have I upset you?”

“No. I’m reflecting on my actions. I tried to be less of a bother and ended up worse so.”

“Because you are not a bother. You’re special to me, Jihoon.”

A new thought arrived. “Did you speak to Jeonghan?”

“Yes.”

“Please tell him you found me. I don’t want to be a bother to him too.”

“I’ll text him when we get home.”

 

“Seungcheol?”

“Mm?”

“Do we have to go straight home?”

Seungcheol paused, thinking about it. “I’m kind of exhausted, Jihoon. I can’t run on solar like you can.”

He remained quiet.

“…where did you want to go?”

“Just… for coffee. It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

Seungcheol nodded. “No, it’s okay. We deserve coffee and some cake.”

“Really? I don’t want to be a bo-” Jihoon caught the look in Seungcheol’s eye and stopped talking immediately. “Thank you, Seungcheol.”

It was a quiet drive from there through the morning traffic to the café: it was open, with Mingyu at the bar once again.

“Hey! You found him!” He came from behind the bar to give Jihoon a friendly squeeze. “Heard you took off. Don’t do it again. Seungcheol was a significant shade of green when he came in here looking for you. And green isn’t his colour. It’s not cute.”

Jihoon petted his shoulder. “Uh… right.”

Mingyu winked, slapping Seungcheol in the arm happily. “So, what’ll it be, kids?”

“I’ll have a black and, uh, you got any of those uh, hazelnut chocolate cake thingies?”

He gave him a look. “Sorry, they’re an autumn edition. How about a thick caramel chocolate brownie?”

“Sure. Jihoon?”

“Um… a latte with a strawberry shortcake, please.”

They were seated with their coffee and cake in a little window booth before anything else was said: Jihoon stared at his shortcake for a few moments, biting his lip before he couldn’t resist anymore. “Sorry. I’ll be quick.” Within seconds he had whipped his phone out of his pocket, plugged it into a socket in the wall and taken several shots of the shortcake.

Seungcheol might have dozed off somewhere in between. He couldn’t be sure.

He finally laid the phone away, looking a little sheepish. “It looked really pretty,” he mumbled in his defence.

“No, no, it’s fine.” Seungcheol stirred his coffee aimlessly, taking a bite of his brownie before clearing his throat. “Any particular reason you wanted coffee and cake?”

He bridled. “Text Jeonghan, first.”

“Oh, right.” He obeyed readily, and then texted his little brother to say they wouldn’t be long yet.

Jihoon frowned at his shortcake as he ate it, trying to think of how to word his dilemma. “I guess I’m just… being spoiled. I wanted to have another hour just alone with you before going back to your brother.”

Seungcheol considered it. “Does it make you uncomfortable? Would you rather _not_ live with me anymore?”

“I like living with you. It’s just hard to… get used to having another person around. I got really used to just being with you. I know that’s selfish.”

“A little, but you’re allowed to be selfish.”

“I am?”

“Sure.”

Jihoon ate a piece of strawberry, considering it. “It’s not fair of me to feel this way. He’s been your brother long than I’ve been your friend. So why am I like this?”

Seungcheol shrugged. “You got used to one way of living and now you’re scared that way of living is going to change. That’s a natural reaction. We’re really close friends, Jihoon. Well… at least, _I_ think of _you_ as my best friend. And if you want to stay close to me, then it must be the same for you.” He waited for confirmation, which he got in a short nod. “Then, you don’t want it to change. That’s okay. It won’t. Hansol goes to school every day, you know. We’ll have the whole morning and most of the afternoons to ourselves.”

“We will?” It took Jihoon a moment. “School is an educational facility for young people, right?”

“That’s right. Oh yeah, I suppose you’ve never been.” Seungcheol shuddered. “You’re not missing much.”

Jihoon nodded, letting the information sink in. “He can have my room though. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“You absolutely _will not_ , for several reasons.” He held up a few fingers. “One, that is _your room_ , specifically destined _for you_. You are comfortable there. I want you to stay there. Second, _nobody_ is sleeping on the couch. I’m not a monster. And _third_ , you don’t _know_ Hansol. You don’t know the innate ability and talent he has to make literally any space given to him an absolute chaos in under three hours. If we give him a large room, there will be a large mess. If we give him a small room there will be a small mess. I love my brother, but I’d let him live in the closet if I thought it would mean it was tidier in my house.”

Jihoon had to smile a little. “You’re too nice to me.”

“No I’m not. But I’m telling you, I’m going to punish you for making me so scared today.”

“Punish me?” Jihoon flushed, looking worried. “…what?”

“ _You_ can tidy up my study and rearrange everything so Hansol can live in there.”

“Oh.” There was a look of relief on Jihoon’s face. “That’s fine.”

“How did you _think_ I was going to punish you?”

Jihoon went in for his latte. “I thought I was going to get a spanking. That’s a usual punishment parents give to their children, right?”

Seungcheol had to wipe his brow at the very thought. “Um, I wouldn’t – that’s abuse – and uh, I’m not your parent! Do you think of me as your dad?”

Jihoon shook his head. “No, you and father are worlds apart. I just gathered it was a general thing.”

“It’s not.” He had to wipe his brow again at the thought. “Please don’t ever talk about it again.”

He nodded carefully. “Sorry.”

“That’s okay.” Seungcheol watched him for a few minutes. “You really like strawberries, hm?”

The android poked one with his tiny fork. “They’re sweet and juicy. Though sometimes they’re tart and I don’t like that.”

Seungcheol made a face. “I hate acidic things. Except coffee.”

“Not the same acid.”

“No, not the same.”

Jihoon put the last bit of strawberry in his mouth and looked up. “I’m sorry, this is my fault. I kept you out too long.” He paused. “You look like a panda and you need sleep.”

“Right.” Seungcheol left some money under his cup.

 

Hansol hadn’t left for school, what with it being a Saturday and all, so the house smelled of freshly roasted coffee and hot waffles when the android and his best friend walked in.

“Hey, you’re back!” Hansol appeared in the doorway, a cheesy and unrealistic smile plastered across his face, too wide to be honest. “Welcome back!”

The two men in the hallway glanced at each other.

“And now that you’re back you can explain to me.” Hansol picked up Jihoon’s goodbye letter and held it up in the air. “What exactly does _not really human_ mean?”


	19. Three's A Crowd

Hansol stared for a while at the wires sticking out of one of Jihoon’s toes. “Oh,” he mumbled awkwardly. “I see.”

“It’s important nobody finds out about this,” Seungcheol said with a heavy tone.

“Yeah, yeah, no, I wouldn’t… _weird_. _Cool!_ ” The boy brought up a bright, wolfish kind of grin. “You’re awesome, Jihoon!”

“Thanks.”

“This is so _Chobits_.”

Seungcheol cringed, pinching his brother lightly in the shoulder. “Okay, dumbass. That’s enough.”

“Aw, hey!”

“Listen, I’m going to bed.”

“You need to eat.” Jihoon stood from where he sat, sliding his toe shut again. “Before you sleep. Or you’ll wake up with even lower blood sugar stats.”

Seungcheol almost asked how his android companion knew his blood sugar levels. _Almost_. “Fine.”

“I’ll grab the maple syrup.”

 

After five waffles with lashings of syrup and two glasses of milk, Seungcheol ended up in bed, exhausted: Jihoon simply kept eating.

“Are you not sleepy?”

“Not really, I can go for longer without sleep if my battery is charged. Speaking of which.” He darted away and back again, setting a medium-sized backpack on the windowsill. “That needs to charge.”

“External battery?”

“Sorta.”

“So, how did you come to live with my brother?” He held up both palms with a happy smile. “Just curious.”

Jihoon stopped, and smiled, just a tiny bit. “He found me lost in the street, and just picked me up. Like a stray dog, I suppose.” He continued to fork a ridiculous amount of waffle into his mouth, chewing on it thoughtfully.

“Didn’t you have somewhere else to go?”

He shook his head. “My father died and I had to make my escape from some bad guys pretty quickly.”

“Oh. I see. You’re wanted technology.” Vernon shrugged. “Secret’s safe with me, buddy.”

“Thanks.”

“So, you guys are pretty serious by now, huh?”

“Hmm?”

“How long have you been here?”

Jihoon thought about it. “I came in December. So about four months.”

“Damn, you two work quickly.” It took Hansol a moment, pondering the idea. “I mean, I’m not accusing you of anything. But my brother isn’t the brightest when it comes to these things. In fact, he’s about as dull as mud. So I just think you work quickly. For him to already be this attached to you. Just for the record, I don’t want to hear you two at it at night.”

Jihoon paused, fork hanging in the air. “I don’t understand.”

“You know.” Hansol finally had the decency to go pink in the cheeks as he picked up his third cup of coffee. “I mean I don’t know if you guys are loud or where you go or whatever, I just… you know, I’m still a student, so I need to get my sleep, and hearing my older brother go at it is gonna disturb my sleep pattern.”

Jihoon slowly put the fork down, frowning in concentration. “I don’t understand.”

“You know…” The child awkwardly held his finger and thumb up in a circle shape and put a finger inside it. “When you guys are doing the nasty. I don’t want to know about it.”

“Hold on, let me google that.” Jihoon closed his eyes for a few moments and then opened them up, his face suddenly smoothed out. “Hansol, Seungcheol and I aren’t engaging in sexual relations with each other.”

“What?”

“We aren’t having sex. We are not copulating. We have never attempted to penetrate each other with our pe-”

“LAAAAAAAA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LAAAAAL-LALALALALA!” Hansol Suddenly clasped his hands over his ears, singing loudly. “Okay, okay, I don’t wanna know. Okay. I’ll lay low.”

Jihoon returned to his food. “Just so we’re clear.”

“…but you two are definitely, like, _going out_ , right?”

“We are not in a romantic relationship.”

“Really?” The kid slumped in his seat. “Aw man, I thought it was really obvious, the way he looks at you.”

This finally peaked the android’s interest. He forsook the cold food on his plate and turned to his coffee with a tilt of the head. “He looks differently at me?”

“He looks at you with a really lonely stare, like he’s thinking, _oh Jihoon, I want to cuddle you and kiss you, if only you understood my everlasting love for you!_ ”

He blinked. “Seungcheol doesn’t sound like that,” was all he could retort.

Hansol simply shrugged with a goofy grin on his face. “That’s what he’s thinking.”

“I doubt it. Seungcheol appreciates me as a friend. We’re friends. Good friends.”

“…let me know how that works out for you.” Hansol winked once. “Well I promised my friends I’d go to the movies with them, so I’m going to go. You two guys uh… stay safe, huh?”

“Sure.”

 

The bleary-eyed man was handed a steaming coffee, at which he stared for a few moments before understanding that it was given for drinking purposes. He downed nearly the whole cup in one go, and then groaned, gripping his throat.

“By the way, it’s hot,” Jihoon commented, slightly unnecessarily.

Seungcheol nodded a bit, putting the cup down. “You not sleep?”

Jihoon finished folding up his sheet. “No, I’m going long enough on battery these days.”

Before either of them had really understood what was going on, Seungcheol’s arms were covering Jihoon’s shoulders from behind, his nose nuzzling into the android’s neck, the very picture of warmth and comfort. “Jihoon,” he mumbled, “don’t scare me like that again. Don’t leave me like that again. You need to work on your communication.”

“I understand. I’m sorry.”

They were quiet for a moment, simply standing there together.

“Thank you,” Seungcheol murmured. “I haven’t said it yet. Thank you, Jihoon. For coming back. I would have been miserable without you.”

Jihoon nodded. “Thanks for taking me back.”

“My pleasure. What time is it?”

“Seven.”

“Where’s my brother?”

“Out. He went out with friends this morning, was back at three for some work-out gear, then back again at five to take a shower, and out again with friends to dinner.”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes, straightening out and extracting himself from his friend. “Oooh, mister fancy-pants has a social life, well, imagine _that_.”

Jihoon finished the laundry he was folding. “He said he’d be out until late.”

“Course he will.” Seungcheol slid over towards the kitchen. “I’ll have to give him a curfew. Jihoon what’s this?”

“Uh, dinner, I left you some.”

He paused. “I might have to marry you,” he commented wistfully, pulling plastic wrap off a bowl of hearty chicken soup and some rice. “Thanks so much.”

“About marriage.”

Seungcheol froze.

“Are we in a romantic relationship?”

Seungcheol shook his head, confused. “Not as far as I know, why?”

Jihoon shrugged. “Hansol seemed to be under the wrong impression.”

“Hansol things we’re _dating?_ ” Seungcheol stuck his food in the microwave. “I’ll have to explain things to him.”

“Yes please. I didn’t want to intrude while you were asleep, but now that you’re up, can I start clearing your study?”

The two men sat to plan their renovations, and after half an hour, Jihoon set to work. It was disconcerting to watch the diminutive android easily hold and balance large boxes full of books in a single hand: nanobots strengthening his muscles was a plus, but it was also a little freaky to watch. The android cleared the room of most of the books and several black bags full of scribbled paper that Seungcheol insisted on going through himself – though _when_ the supreme procrastinator was actually going to do that was still contested – and some more of empty paper, several USB sticks, and plenty of other assorted bits and bobs.

“Seungcheol.”

“Mm?”

“You’re filthy,” the voice answered, drawing louder and nearer. “I am disgusted, and sincerely worried about your health.”

“What did I-”

The young man appeared, holding a plate full of white, blue and green fuzz, which had once upon a time, been a half-eaten burger and some fries with ketchup. Some dead bugs’ remains were encapsulated in the mouldy sauce.

Seungcheol’s nose wrinkled. “Ew, I’m disgusting.”

“No amount of bleach can fix this,” he complained. “The whole plate will have to be thrown out.”

“Agreed!”

From then on, Jihoon used rubber gloves.

 

When Hansol arrived home at 2:30 AM like a champion of teenagery, the study had been transformed: it had been dusted, mopped and walls washed, the unused mattress in the small single bed had been flipped and dressed in fresh bedding, the window opened, and a scented candle lit.

There was a thick, gooey stain on the wall behind the desk the smelled slightly. Jihoon was nearly entirely sure it didn’t smell anymore, but he wasn’t going to risk it, so Cinnamon And Apples it was. He also wasn’t going to ask Seungcheol what it was. He decided not knowing was safer.

 

“Hey Jihoon, can you go to the shop real quick for me?”

He straightened form his slacked position. “What do you need?”

“We ran out of milk.”

He slackened again. “It’s under the cheese.”

“Oh. And uh… you got some uh, chocolate snacks or something…”

“Hansol took them all.”

“Damn it.” He slammed the fridge shut. “That’s just rotten.”

Jihoon coloured a moment, then got up. “It’s okay, I’ll go get some.”

“No, no it’s okay.” Seungcheol reached out an arm angrily. “Don’t.”

“No, you’re upset, I should-”

“Jihoon, don’t go.”

“But you want chocolate snacks.”

The two stared at each other: Seungcheol standing in his slacks and bloodshot eyes, blood near boiling, and Jihoon hunched over on himself, warily looking up but avoiding Seungcheol’s gaze at all costs.

“What are you so scared of?!”

Jihoon looked away. “Just let me get you some chocolate and-”

“Jihoon, do not get me chocolate!”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want any!”

They locked eyes and both relaxed, laughing.

“You’re a fucking idiot!”

“So-sorry!” Seungcheol gasped for air as he chuckled. “I’m an ass when my blood sugar gets low.”

“Let me make you something.” Jihoon kept a whimsical smile on his face as he stood in the kitchen.

His friend watched him. “Hey Jihoon, have you ever thought about cooking as a profession?”

He shook his head. “Too much stress. I was thinking more of going into fashion?”

“You’d have to make a cracking portfolio.”

“I’m aware. You want mayo on this?” He didn’t wait – he already knew the answer – before allowing a spoonful of mayonnaise hit the bread with a sickening _schlep._ “I’ve already got over a thousand rough drawings, but I’m only really happy with about thirty.”

“Wait, you’re actually… going to do that?” he said, graciously accepting the plate. “I didn’t know you were thinking about jobs or studies seriously.”

“Can’t mooch off you forever.”

“Sure you can.”

“Agree to disagree. Go on, eat.” Jihoon leaned over the countertop. “Anyway, like I say, I’ll have to work on the portfolio a little more.”

Seungcheol chewed on his first bite thoughtfully. “Well actually, the more drawings the better, I think. When artists make their portfolio it’s best to have several rough drawings you did before coming to the final product, so that the evaluators can see the artistic decisions you made.” He paused. “Migyu tried to apply for art college with a portfolio of 500 drawings. They didn’t accept it. The portfolio that _did_ get accepted had over ten times the amount.”

He thought about it.

“Can I see them? Your drawings?”

Suddenly, the young man blushed. “No!”

“Aw, why not?”

“They’re not good! They’re not _done yet_!”

He held up his palms in surrender with a happy smile before his friend could escape. “Alright, alright. I’ll give the artist some space.”

“You’re an artist too, you know.” Jihoon suddenly wrinkled his nose. “I don’t plan on being an artist _like_ you though. Not at all.”

They bickered for a while about whether ‘creative chaos’ was necessary for the mind of an artist – and what exactly the definition was – until the novelist stretched loudly, happy with his meal.

“Jihoon, let’s go out.”

“Out?”

“Yeah. I’m tired of being inside. Let’s go out.”

“Where?”

He rocked back and forth on his heels. “I don’t know. I want to spend time with you.” He suddenly looked at Jihoon intently. “I kind of miss you, you know.”

“ _We live together, Seungcheol._ ”

“Not the same. It’s like… kind of crowded with Hansol here. It’s not just _us_ anymore. I need us time.”

Jihoon bridled, but in the end decided against pointing out further inaccuracies: it was a bad habit that seemed to annoy Seungcheol often enough. “Alright.”

 

 _I think I’m going crazy._ Seungcheol’s hand inched closer. _He’s too cute. He’s impossibly cute. But he can’t be cute because we’re not like that, and **I’m** not like that, so he can’t be cute, but he’s really, **really** cute._

Seungcheol took Jihoon’s hand, swinging it gently.

The android didn’t comment, simply continuing to sip from his straw for a while. “So, is this satisfying your need for intimacy?”

Seungcheol nearly jumped a mile in the air, letting go of him. “What do you mean?!”

“You wanted us time,” he said plainly, giving Seungcheol a somewhat dubious look. “I presumed you meant intimate, personal time together. We’ve been in the park for two hours already. I was wondering if that was enough.”

“Oh. Oh, oh.” He sighed, flustered, nearing again. “Are you sick of me? Do you want to go home?”

“Not really. I’m just curious.” Jihoon finished his drink and threw it in a near-by trashcan before offering Seungcheol his hand again plainly.

“Do – do you want to hold hands?”

“I thought you did.”

“Not really.” He blushed, a bright red colour, and felt his heart swoop a little as Jihoon’s arm dropped by his side again.

“Alright,” he said.

The novelist gripped his hand again faster than the speed of light, colouring more, but not mentioning it, ignoring the silent questioning look his friend gave him. They simply continued to walk through the park at an agonizingly slow pace, sauntering down the paths.

“Jihoon?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you going to apply to arts college soon?”

“…I don’t know.”

“I see.” Seungcheol stared ahead. “If you apply, will you want to move out?”

“It’s common for students to stay in dormitories, isn’t it?” The question lingered between them for a while. “I’d be scolded if I said I didn’t want to be a bother, wouldn’t I?”

“Yes. This is about what you _want_ , Jihoon.”

He thought about it for some time, his fingers suddenly gripping Seungcheol’s more tightly. “Cheol.”

“Mm?”

“Move.”

“What?”

“M-” Jihoon lost no more time speaking: he simply let Seungcheol’s hand fly free, racing off the pathway and into the shrubbery. It was graceful, in a panicked sort of way: he barely rustled a single leaf on the bush he swept into, his little body mingling with nature and sliding through small crevices.

Seungcheol stared at the place where the young man had disappeared, in some shock, and some wonder.

“See anything interesting?”

The man wore plain clothes – jogging clothes, really, sweat bottoms and a jacket half-zipped up with old, muddy sneakers. Short-cut hair, otherwise an unremarkable person.

But there was something about the slant of his smirk, the shade of his stubble, that caught Seungcheol.

He nodded at a tree. “Squirrel,” he answered with a cautious smile. “Must be spring.”

“Must be.” The stranger smiled back, something false in the glint of his teeth. “Hey, can I ask you a question? I know this may sound strange, but my nephew ran away from home a few months ago. I figure, while I’m out training, I may as well ask people. He’s still in Seoul, at least, we hope.”

The picture was different from a previous one he saw. This was more faded, more grainy, and Seungcheol could tell it had been taken from a shoddy webcam.

Jihoon looked impossibly young in the photograph: snuggled up in a warm cableknit sweater, hair bleached blonde, an adorable, children’s smile on his face. His features were sweet and soft.

The man next to him on the photo was entirely different, and not at all what Seungcheol had expected: for some reason he presumed Jihoon’s creator had been a kind of Santa Clause-esque figure, with a round belly and greying beard and little round glasses. This man could barely be mid-thirties, hair swept up off his forehead and gelled over the side, thick square frames in the common fashion, and a handsome, well-shaven jaw. The collar of a blue work-shirt pepped up over the edge of the photo.

The shock almost had him stand and stare too long. “No, no, sorry. I haven’t seen any children like this.”

“No? Haw, too bad.”

“Actually, can I keep this?” He wished he could take the words back, stuff them back down his throat, but it was too late. “Do you have a spare? I could keep a look out for you.”

The man’s eyes twinkled suddenly, the edges of his mouth becoming too wide. “Absolutely, of course!” He pulled out a felt-tip pen and scrawled a number on the back of it. “If you see him, call that number, _please_. My brother would do anything to have him back.”

“Sure thing, if I see him.”

“Hey, thanks!” The man set off on a light jog down the path, leaving Seungcheol where he stood, with a picture of Jihoon and his father in his hands.

Then his stomach dropped, his heart beat in his ears, and he turned, finally realising that he was well and truly alone.

Without Jihoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SORRY, I'M LATE, I KNOW. I'm sorry this chapter just refused to write itself and I've been stressed off my head lately :(


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